


The Handmaiden's Revenge

by AltUniverseWash



Series: Pyrope & Crocker, Investigators [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: 1930s, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1930s, Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Human/Troll Society (Homestuck), Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Alternate Universe - No Sburb/Sgrub Sessions, Alternate Universe - Noir, Bisexual Character, Crime Scenes, Crimes & Criminals, Detective Noir, Detectives, F/F, F/M, Family Issues, Film Noir, Gen, Gritty, Human Trafficking, Investigations, Kanaya and Vriska are exes, Kissing, Lesbian Character, Lesbian Relationship, Making Out, New York, New York City, Non-Explicit Sex, Organized Crime, Other, POV Bisexual Character, POV First Person, Past Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Physical Abuse, Plot, Plot-driven narrative, Pre-Sburb/Sgrub, Secrets, Slow Romance, Thriller, Trauma, Trolls (Homestuck), light shipping, noirstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:34:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 40,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22590322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AltUniverseWash/pseuds/AltUniverseWash
Summary: Jane Crocker, Private Eye receives a visitor one hot August day with a simple proposal - deliver a sealed message to a former associate without asking too many questions. It's quick. It's easy money. It'll keep Jane off the streets for another month at least.What starts as a delivery spirals into a complex tale of crime, violence, betrayal, and revenge that will take Jane on a blood-chilling tour of New York City's Alternian Criminal Underground, uncovering a web of corruption that spans from the lowest dregs of the city to the wealthiest elites of New York high society. With few friends, no backup, and no idea who she can trust, Jane must sort out who's working for who and who wants who killed before she ends up on the business end of the wrong person's gun.(this story was inspired by this fake movie poster: https://pomelope.tumblr.com/post/190664534846/a-fake-detective-movie-poster-starring-jane-and)
Relationships: Jane Crocker/Terezi Pyrope, Kanaya Maryam/Vriska Serket, Rose Lalonde/Kanaya Maryam, Sollux Captor/Aradia Megido, Vriska Serket / June Egbert
Series: Pyrope & Crocker, Investigators [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1632040
Comments: 10
Kudos: 30





	1. The Slow Burn

**Author's Note:**

> There will be some potentially triggering content in some chapters. TW's will be provided at the beginning of those chapters for anyone who may need them.
> 
> Generally speaking, TW's for discussion of mature themes (including themes of sexual assault and physical abuse) and descriptions of violence. I try very hard not to be gratuitous, but it may still be disturbing to some readers and I will try to provide appropriate warnings.

**New York City, 1932**

The name’s Jane Crocker – I’m a private eye.

Where I hang my hat is a place called New York City… you may think you’ve heard of it, but you haven’t. By way of exposition, back in the 1900’s a group of folks showed up from out of town.  _ Way _ out of town, by way of another planet called Alternia in another dimension that even the fancy government brain-boys haven’t thought of a catchy name for yet. Didn’t make no never-mind to me, in any case – they were here already no matter what you called their home.

The Alternians showed up and they stayed. Hundreds of them, then thousands, then almost a million of them. Mostly coming to live in the major cities. So New York transformed just like Boston and Chicago – the trolls (which is what most humans call the Alternians, although I hear they find the term at least mildly offensive) moved in and made entire neighborhoods into their homes. Now we’ve got a Little Alternia that stretches all the way from the bottom of Central Park all the way down to the water past Wall Street. Not so Little, if you get my drift.

Before long they were all over the planet. All through Europe they started popping up, moving in. Always peaceful-like, unless they got pushback. Then they could get mean. But they got along with humans well enough, once we got used to them. One of them stopped a little incident in Serbia with the Archduke in ‘14 and that made the trolls the heroes of the damn continent. Pretty soon they were parading in Paris and hitting the pubs in London and it always felt like they stopped something big over there.

But exposition has a way of running away on me. It’s a thing I’m working on, see? Let me get to the main point, that being the day that the dame who changed my life forever walked in my door.

It was a hot afternoon in late August. The temperature was rising faster than the unemployment rate, and my office fan was busted again. Wouldn’t have the money to fix it this month. Be lucky if I even made rent when the slumlord who runs the place came by to collect.

Money was always the problem. Money for rent. Money for smokes. Money for that sweet mind-numbing elixir called bourbon that helped blur out all the ugly I saw every day. And I tell you, I saw an awful lot of ugly where I was. Right on the northern end of Little Alternia – I saw every inch of ugly that the trolls brought with their blood caste system and honor debts and cycles of vengeance. Didn’t much care for it myself, but being on the edge of it usually kept my budget in the black every month.

I was gonna make a “them being in the red keeps me in the black” crack there, but from what I hear those words have some romantic-type meaning for the trolls, so I don’t think it works. Plus their blood is all kind of funny colors. Strange folk in general, mind.

In any case, it was a hot afternoon and I was sitting and cooking in my office, holding my last pack of smokes and trying to hold off on lighting up until it cooled off a little.

There was a knock on the door. That wasn’t too unusual – folks came in all hours with all kinds of problems. Usually silly things – finding a missing husband who turned out to be in bed with some Jack or Jenny (sometimes both at once), investigating a burglary that almost always turned out to be some kind of insurance con… that kind of nonsense.

So a knock on the door was nothing new, and I called out around the edge of lit smoke that had somehow happened to find its way out of the pack and into my mouth.

“It’s open!”

The door slid open. Metaphorically, of course – it was on a hinge – but in walked a troll dame who made me sit up and take notice.

She was tall and kind of stretched-out, long legs and neck like some kind of fancy French dame. She wore a long, deep-blue overcoat in spite of the hot weather. Her hair was ink-black and hung down long, framing a pair of orange horns and a gray-skinned face that was all angles but somehow just kind of  _ worked _ for her. Long to short, she was mighty fine looking.

Before I could even introduce myself or ask her what in the Samantha-Hill she was doing here, the dame strolled right up, stuck out her hand, and smiled an all-teeth smile that didn’t look a damn sight friendly.

“Vriska Serket, if you don’t mind making my acquaintance.” Her tone said I wasn’t going to get much choice in the matter.

Fortunately, I’m not easily flapped – pretty unflappable, in general, if I do say so myself.

“Jane Crocker, PI. Bonded in the states of New York, New Jersey, Massachusetts, and New Hampshire. What can I do for you, Mrs. Serket?”

“Oh, it’s  _ Miss _ Serket, thank you,” she covered her mouth and laughed lightly. I think it was supposed to seem casual but it came across as being something she practiced saying in the mirror every morning.

“Now, Ms. Crocker, PI – I have a potential case for you. I assume that’s something you’d be interested in, yes?” She made a point of looking around my office, as if she were judging the shabby state of things. I mean, she wasn’t  _ wrong _ about me needing the money like an empty glass needs a good shot of bourbon, but it still felt rude of her to actually come out and say it.

“It might be. It might not be. How about you sit your admittedly gorgeous self down and do a bit of talking. When you’re done, I’ll tell you what’s what.” I took a short drag on the smoke. Guess my wandering hands must’ve lit it up sometime in the last few seconds. So much for saving it until it got cooler out.

Vriska sat down, still smiling with all of those sharp teeth. She crossed her legs and leaned forward,  _ still smiling _ . Can’t say it made me particularly comfortable, but if worst came to worst I always had my hold-out piece. Mr.’s Smith and Wesson had a special .38 caliber place close to my heart, tucked in a shoulder holster right under my suit jacket.

All of a sudden the smile went away and she was looking me dead in the eyes. I took the smoke out of my mouth and tapped it into the ashtray I kept on my desk. It was starting to feel like there was a significant tonal shift happening.

“I need you to find someone for me,” she said quietly. “I need you to do it quickly and be discreet about it.”

I can tell you right there, as I sat at my desk and baked in the heat, something felt off about this whole deal. This was a class-A blue-blood kind of troll dame – the kind of classy gal that doesn’t usually frequent my humble establishment. As a matter of fact, the kind of classy gal who has literally  _ never _ set foot inside of my office. So something about this stunk.

“Why don’t you just go to the police?” I tried to sound real easy going about it, but the question was driving a hole out the other side of my head.

Vriska smirked and leaned in. “You give me one of those cigarettes and I’ll tell you while we smoke.”

I obliged, handing her a smoke and lending her a light. Once she lit up, Vriska leaned back in the chair and took a drag on the smoke that looked almost delicate. She was real pretty – delicate where she could afford to be and tough where it counted. She smiled again, looking a little bit sad.

“The troll I’m asking you to look for isn’t someone who’s necessarily… in good standing with the local constabulary. More specifically, they are in fact wanted for several rather serious crimes. I would go to an Alternian private detective but I want to avoid certain… complications. Discretion is, after all, rather important to me.”

I nodded along and tried to look as even as possible while I worked through what she was saying. I noticed she called the missing person a “troll” – that was weird. Most of the trolls didn’t much care for the word themselves – least not the more blue-blood types. So that meant that maybe these two hadn’t had what you would call an amicable relationship. This was getting interesting… and complicated.

“In any case, detective, I’m just looking for someone to locate this troll for me and pass along a bit of information.” She reached inside of her overcoat and withdrew a small envelope.

“Give this to him when you find him and then we’ll be square and you’ll get paid nicely for your trouble.”

I squinted at her. “Okay… but how do I even know who I’m looking for? You didn’t bother to tell me any details.”

She took another long drag on the smoke and puffed out a cloud of smoke into the air above her.

“Quite right, detective.” With that, she reached into her overcoat again and pulled out a second envelope. With a smooth, graceful motion she undid the clasp on the envelope and dumped the contents onto my desk. A series of photographs showing what looked like a troll wearing a pretty dapper suit. Something about his face though – it made me nervous. All happy and smiling but with nothing at all behind the eyes.

“Gamzee Makara, detective… you’re right to be a little… uncomfortable.” Vriska seemed to  _ sense _ my apprehension.

I was still looking through the photos – he had the same vacant kind of expression in every single one.

“Who is he to you?” I took another pull off my smoke – guess I’d retrieved it from the ashtray at some point without even realizing. “Nice suit, but I’m not really getting the low down from a bunch of pictures. I’m saying I need more, dig?”

Vriska had that smile back on her face – normally a good thing for a drop-dead gal like her, but in this case I kept feeling like the drop-dead part was gonna be a bit more literal than I was used to.  _ Bad news all around _ was what my gut kept telling me about all of this. Of course I didn’t listen – I had bills to pay.

“He’s an… associate. A highblood, like myself. We might run in the same circles, but he’s gone too far out too many times. Now…” she stopped and took a long pause to inhale from her smoke. She let the smoke out slow, pursing her pretty blue-painted lips and looking me dead in the eye.

“...I’m not looking for a triggerman on this one. It’s nothing like that. I just need him made aware of some things and I trust you not to tell anyone else about this.” She kept looking at me and that made me a lot more nervous than I was prepared for.

“So, gumshoe… are you in or out?” That look. Didn’t like it. Everything inside of me kept telling me to scram – tell her to leave and never come back. I was getting in over my head already and I hadn’t even started.

Funny how we can push that little voice in the back of our heads down when we’re worried about being out on the street. Funny how we can push it so far down it barely even makes a squeak. That’s about where I was right then.

I shook her hand on it. Told her we had a deal, with an advance up front. Took the envelope and, like a good flatfoot-for-hire, didn’t peek inside. Saw her to the door and let her out with a wave.

Honestly, at the time I was feeling pretty good. Had enough to keep the landlord away and buy something nice for myself. Had that sense of purpose that always came with the start of a new job. Poured myself a few fingers of the good stuff (well, the  _ okay _ stuff) I kept in the bottom drawer and smiled because Jane Crocker, gumshoe, was on a case.

I’d regret it all soon enough – if you manage to live long enough in this city, there’s always time for regrets.


	2. Matchlight Symphony

**The Bowery, New York City**

The tall, good-looking dame had given me plenty to go on, but none of it was especially helpful. I knew where this Gamzee cat moved and shook – at least in a general, mostly unhelpful kind of sense. According to Vriska, he was a part-owner in a club downtown called “The Laughing Purple” and he owned a nice penthouse apartment nearby. He also, apparently, owned a substantially less-nice dive somewhere near Bowery that he used when he was feeling… inclined to certain unsavoury proclivities. She said she wasn’t sure exactly where it was, but that maybe someone at the club would know more about it.

So the day after Vriska had darkened my doorstep, I found myself wandering around the Bowery around nine in the morning, hoping to cover some ground before the heat could get to me again and maybe get into the club when the day crew was doing their thing. It might be a good opportunity to grease some wheels, and Vriska had given me some folding green specifically for that purpose.

Bowery was definitely in troll country, but it wasn’t the fancy highblood part of town. Sandwiched right in between the northern part of Little Alternia and the waterfront, it was caught between the jade-bloods and teal-bloods who spent a lot of their time around humans and all the blue/purple/indigo-bloods that kept almost exclusively to themselves. That meant this part of town was a sea of low-class trolls who didn’t much care for either humans or highbloods. This was not going to be fun.

I had my trenchcoat and fedora on and it was going to be entirely too warm for that, but I had a method behind my madness. Specifically, I wanted to look as much like a copper as humanly possible. If I tried to barge into the club during business hours looking like this they’d either laugh me off or I’d be waking up in a Jersey drainage ditch the next morning. If I went in too casual here I’d just look like another stupid human trying to slum it down with the trolls. But If I walked that line and they saw a flatfoot knocking on doors and asking a few questions, that might shake just enough of the right kind of attention loose to flush Gamzee out of whatever toilet hole he was hiding in.

After all, I just needed to hand him and envelope, say who it was from, and hope that none of that process was enough for him to decide to plug me before I could abscond back to my office and collect the rest of my fee. That sounded simple enough. More or less.

If I’d been over my head when I took this job, I was walking to the bottom with chains on at this point. I mostly took cases for humans, so my knowledge of the troll world was pretty limited. Still, I was a proper gumshoe and that meant I had a few contacts around town. Matter of fact, I was making my way to one of them right then. Didn’t want to make it too obvious, so I was poking in a few different places. Rattling a few cages. But the one I really wanted to talk to didn’t need to be rattled – it was already open and singing like a sweet canary.

So I made it look unintentional, but I knew exactly where I was going. About the only place in the Bowery I was genuinely familiar with – an appliance repair shop by the name of “Sole-Luxe” that I’d encountered back on my days as a New York Police detective.

The storefront was dingy and plastered with various advertisements of varying degrees of decay, looking like some kind of weird dada art exhibit right in the middle of the city. A neon sign spelled out the store’s name, but with a missing letter it read “Sol -Luxe” – Sol as in sun, which I guess sounded all right. The door clearly stated “by appointment only” but I knew that the proprietor was going to be at home. I’d done this bit a few times before.

Taking a quick look around to make sure the coast was clear, I jiggled the handle and the door opened with a rusty creak, arguing with me but ultimately conceding the point as I made my way inside the dim store. It smelled like rust and mildew inside, and various refrigerators, stoves, and other assorted garbage.

That’s all it was – garbage. Because this place was a front for a fence. Folks came in here to unload goods that maybe weren’t acquired in an entirely legal manner. It was far enough away from the human part of town that the coppers didn’t bat an eye, and far enough away from the waterfront that the highbloods didn’t get it in their heads to come crack down on the place.

“Sollux!” I called out, raising my voice to be heard in the back. Sollux – like Sole-Luxe – he wasn’t real creative when it came to naming his fake business, in any case.

I heard a scrabble in the back and a tall troll with disheveled black hair came running out. He was wearing an ill-fitting brown suit and had a pair of glasses on. For some reason he’d decided one lens should be blue glass and the other should be red. God knows why – didn’t seem to serve any purpose, but it was certainly distinctive.

As soon as Sollux saw me, his face dropped. He knew this was unlikely to be a social call.

“Oh shit.” It was direct and to the point, at least. I sidled up, keeping my eye on him. Sollux wasn’t violent by nature, but you never knew what a man would do when he was cornered.

“Sollux, pally – keen to see you! Very keen!” I smiled, doing my best to imitate the look I’d seen on a certain Vriska Serket’s face the day before. It must have at least been passing good, because Sollux looked a little bit paler gray than he had a minute ago. It was hard to tell with the trolls, but he definitely looked less sure of himself.

“Yeah… real fucking keen. You ain’t been a copper for three fucking years. Why are you here?” He was glaring at me, sizing me up. Maybe trying to see if I was holding iron. I was, of course, but I didn’t want to necessarily advertise the fact.

“Relax, Sollux – everything’s just aces right now. In fact, I’m coming to ask  _ you _ for a little bit of a favor.” Okay, that got his attention. He stopped looking worried and started looking real interested. I knew Sollux’s loyalties only extended about as far as his current employer’s bankroll was willing to take him, so I figured he could be flexible under the right circumstances. Hopefully Vriska had provided enough cabbage for those purposes. We’d see.

“Okay, I’m listening.” His words said it, but his eyes said  _ make it worth my while. _

“I’m looking for a troll by the name of Gamzee Makara. Supposedly he has a place around here…” I kind of trailed off because Sollux was looking like he’d just heard from a particularly wordy ghost. Something in that name meant something to him – this was something I could press on.

“You need to get the fuck out of here right now.”

His face was a tragedy mask – all sagging and twitching. He was reaching under the counter, and I wasn’t about to stand around and find out what he was reaching for. I wasn’t an official flatfoot anymore, so I had to use a lot more discretion than I had in the distant past.

“Seriously. Get the fuck out.” That hand was all the way under the counter. I had visions of a sawed-off shotgun and a chest-full of hot lead pellets. Not a swell time, and not something I had any interest in pursuing further. I made my apologies and backed out of the store slowly, careful to keep my hands far away from the piece under my coat.

And just like that, I was back on the street in the noon sun none the wiser and with even less of a clue than I’d had before. There was one place I knew about that I hadn’t gone yet, and it wouldn’t be open until after dark.

* * *

**Financial District, New York City**

Wall Street had benefited immensely from the Alternians. The highbloods in particular had a knack for the high-roaring capitalist lifestyle, and the midbloods – those teal and jade-hued middle managers – had a knack for keeping everything running. So once you dropped below Fulton it became a weird amalgam of human and troll all mixed together. The closer you got to the heart of the financial district the more you saw humans mingling with all those midbloods. The highbloods mostly stayed up in their towers, far away from the day-to-day grind. A lot like their wealthy human friends in that respect.

I hit the Financial District in the mid afternoon and decided to take my time looking around, seeing if there was anything notable. I doffed my hat and overcoat, leaving myself in a suit jacket and trousers that helped me blend in perfectly. See, the Alternians might have a lot of weird ideas about blood and class, but one thing they’re pretty spot on about is how they treat dames and fellas. Ever since they started making big waves in the world, folks’ ideas about the fairer sex have softened a might. So I grew up in a world where a gal walking down Wall Street in a suit wouldn’t raise any more of an eye than a guy taking his smoke on the street corner. I was planning to use that to my advantage.

Wasn’t much doing though. I strolled down Maiden Lane, past the Fed, then decided to make a big loop and head back onto Wall Street. I wasn’t sure what I was looking or listening for just yet, but sometimes it helps to just make yourself open to the possibilities. It was hot, but not as bad as the day before – the breeze coming off the harbor helped even things out a bit. In the end, I had my goal in mine, and I kept checking my pocket watch and squinting at the Sun, hoping it would hurry up and drop so I could make tracks down to the water.

By seven o’clock the sun was just starting to dip, and by ten to eight it was painting the horizon a beautiful gold. I took that as my cue and jogged the rest of the way down to the end of Water Street. There, under the watchful eye of Lady Liberty out in the harbor, was my final destination: The Laughing Purple.

I picked a spot and staked the joint out until it was good and dark. Saw a lot of trolls and a lot of humans heading in. Lot of fancy feathers and fur on display. This was going to be a tough sell – I’d probably need to play up the old detective angle. Fortunately, I still kept my badge from my days on the Force.

So after a half hour, I just strolled right on up to the door. Of course there was a fella by the door who looked plenty rugged – a massive troll with two horns like a gosh-darned bull. He eyed me the way you might look at a bug. Looked up and down, didn’t approve much, shook his head, and crossed his tree trunk arms over his chest.

“It’s full up. Head on out, ya flighty broad.”

That got me, but I put on my best smile and flashed the badge and a five spot from Vriska’s petty cash fund.

“Jane Crocker – need to have some words with some folks inside.”

The bouncer grabbed the badge and five spot from my hand and examined it. He looked me over again, then tossed the badge back and nodded.

“Give me your gun, copper. You’ll get it back on your way out.” I figured this was only fair, so I happily obliged and drew out my iron and handed it over.

The rock of a troll opened the door and I pushed my way inside. Inside the Purple was a dense haze of smoke and the strong smell of booze of both the good and not-so-good varieties. I could hear the sounds of the house band playing up ahead. Rounding the corner to the main floor, I saw a bunch of tables arranged around the sides, the bar right in the middle, and a stage off to the side where the band was doing their thing. Humans and trolls were scattered all around, talking, drinking, making eyes at each other, and generally having a pretty good time. Not really my scene, but I could see where some might get used to it.

I was still getting my bearings when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned quickly, reaching for my piece by habit before realizing I didn’t have it. I was squaring up, getting ready to fight, when I saw a large, lean troll smiling down at me. He wasn’t a bad looking fella, but there was something unpleasant about him. Maybe it was the slicked hair or the teal waistcoat he wore, but something about him reminded me of a mafia consigliere.

“I’m sorry, Mademoiselle, if I may be so pleased as to make your acquaintance?”

I dropped my stance and smiled. “My apologies. Detective Jane Crocker – and you are?”

He smiled wider and leaned in, extending a long-fingered hand. “The name is Tagora Gorjek – you can call me Gor-Gor if you’d prefer.”

I shook the hand – he had a strong grip but it felt like he was sizing me up at the same time.

“I wasn’t expecting someone of your… speciation. To be quite honest I was told to be ready for someone of the Alternian persuasion. Still, it can’t be helped what the police force of this great city decide to send along.”

He was losing me, but one thing being a detective for so long had taught me was how to play along like you knew exactly what someone was talking about until they told you enough that you actually did. If this sleeze bag thought I was supposed to be there, then by gosh I was supposed to be there.

“Well, you know how it is!” I punctuated the remark with a quick smile and Tagora nodded. Amazing how often that kind of guff actually worked.

“Quite right – quite right, indeed! Let’s head over to one of the booths in the back – it’ll give us some degree of quiet to discuss the business matter.”

He was already walking and keeping up with him was a challenge, his legs being so darned long and all. We wound our way back through the smoke and the crowd to a section of the club that was obviously reserved for patrons of a very special standing. There was another hulking, menacing troll looming in the corner, but he saw Tagora and simply nodded his head slightly as we walked past. We came to a comfortable-looking booth and Tagora motioned for me to sit, which I was glad for after spending so much time on my feet earlier. He sat across from me and leaned in, tenting his fingers. His smile vanished.

“As I’m sure you were told, I represent certain… legal interests that are heavily invested in this city. We have recently had certain… issues with one of the owners of this club.”

I had a strong feeling where this was going, so I decided to push my luck. “Gamzee… Gamzee Makara.”

Tagora nodded. “Yes, precisely. He’s usually in here pretty much every night… when he isn’t blasting out his think-pan with sopor slime.” I figured I understood about half of those words, but the meaning was clear enough. Gamzee was riding the dragon… or something near enough like it to be the same darn thing.

“He’s been gone for a couple days now, and my… employers have some specific matters that need to be attended to in a most urgent fashion.” Tagora reached inside of his waistcoat and pull out a small envelope. He passed it over and I could see that it was marked with the stamp of a telegram company.

“This needs to be hand-delivered to Mr. Makara at the earliest possible occasion. It is a quite time-sensitive matter.”

Time to try another gamble. “I was told he had a place in the Bowery but no one bothered to say where.”

Tagora nodded – looked like I was two-for-two tonight. “Yes, I’ll give you the address.” He produced a pencil from the coat and scribbled an address on the back of the envelope in neat-but-sprawling hand. “If at all possible, deliver this to him tonight.”

As suddenly as he’d taken his seat, Tagora stood back up and it was suddenly clear that this meeting was about to be very much over.

“Come around tomorrow and ask for me and I’ll handle your payment.” He waved his hand at me and that was my cue to exit stage left. I made my way back through the smokey dark of the club, out the door, and bid farewell to the bouncer after collecting my revolver.

Given the time of night and the distance I had to go, I went out and hailed a Checker – I told the driver where abouts I needed to be and hopped in.

As soon as I was out of the area, I immediately ripped open the envelope. I didn’t owe Targora a darn thing.

Mr. Makara -(STOP)-   
Boston has learned what you’re doing and are unhappy -(STOP)-   
Check in with Tagora at first opportunity -(STOP)-   
Be ready to explain yourself to council in Boston -(STOP)-   
Details to follow

That was painfully vague enough that it wasn’t going to help to sit there and hurt my egg thinking it over. I pocketed the telegram slip and closed my eyes for a bit while the cab slowly made its way up to the Bowery.

* * *

**The Bowery, New York City**

Gamzee’s building turned out to be about the most discreet that one could possibly find. It was an apartment building tucked back a bit off Bleecker Street with the entrance in a back alley. I hated everything about this situation, so I pulled my piece and held it low, just out of sight but definitely at the ready. I found the entrance sure enough, scaring a few decent-sized rats in the process but not seeing any other people or trolls around.

The entrance itself was lit with a single bare bulb and the gate that was normally supposed to keep intruders out looked like it had been broken for a long time. Gamzee sure did love to live in filth – that wasn’t really a conclusion that required a whole lot of deduction.

I pushed my way through the gate and it screamed at me through its rusty hinges – a bit too loud for my liking. I braced myself for the shouts and running footsteps from the apartments above… they never came. I was getting the feeling that this wasn’t exactly the Ritz in terms of either popularity or accomodations.

The stairway leading up was almost completely dark, so I made my way by feel, still clutching my Smith and my Wesson low at my side. There was another bare bulb in the landing near Gamzee’s slum apartment, but it was dim and didn’t help much. His apartment door was down at the end – all the better to have privacy for whatever unpleasantness he got up to in his apparently abundant spare time.

Even in the dim, I could see that the door was ajar. In my extensive experience, not generally a good sign. The gun was up at the ready now, all pretending about being subtle tossed out the window like dirty dishwater. I squinted down the barrel.

“Makara!” I called out, really speaking from my chest. “This is the police! We’re coming in!” It was technically a half-life, but I figured it didn’t matter at this point.

With my right foot, I kicked the door from ajar to open and slid inside the apartment. The smell hit me as soon as I was through the door and I knew I wasn’t going to find good things inside. Troll blood might come in a lot of fancy colors, but it still has the same rust smell that human blood does. And that smell was  _ everywhere _ .

The apartment was lit dimly by a few fixtures around – enough to see splatters of purple in the doorway that lead into the kitchen. The trail of blood led out from where the splatters were and around the corner into Gamzee’s living room – if you could call it that. I walked slow, making sure not to touch anything but keeping that piece up and ready.

I cleared the living room – it was a mess. Furniture was knocked over, trash was everywhere.

And lying in the middle of the mess, as if set upon a throne of modern refuse, was the stinking, blood-soaked body of Gamzee Makara.


	3. Blind Justice, Investigator

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: This chapter contains some somewhat graphic descriptions of crime scene gore/violence. It is not overly explicit, but may be disturbing to some readers.

I was no stranger to death – that’s something that goes away pretty quick when you work in the same unit as the homicide boys for two years – but this was messy. This was… personal. Gamzee had obviously been dead for a while – the smell was enough to confirm that. I covered my nose with the corner of my coat sleeve and walked closer.

There were two plug-holes in his chest. Looked like maybe a .45 at close range, but it was hard to tell. What settled the choice of round in my mind was his head – it was turned to the side so I could see that behind the neat entry wound was a massive exit wound. It looked like someone had blown out a melon full of purple goo and pink brain tissue. Probably a dumdum bullet right to the middle. I was glad I had a strong stomach, but even I had to look away.

From down below, I heard that rusty gate scream again. It was quieter than when I went in, which meant someone knew what they were doing. So either I was about to have company or there was about to be the potential for questions. Neither was a great option.

Quick as I could, I tucked myself out of sight in the kitchen. The blood smell was getting to me, but I didn’t have time to think about it right then. Instead, I crouched down a bit and pulled back the hammer on my double-action revolver. If this was gonna be a toss-up, I was gonna come down on the winning side.

I didn’t even hear them come up the stairs, but I could feel the air shift as the door opened. I slowly shifted my weight, preparing to strike as soon as they were inside.

“Is that a .38 Smith and Wesson I heard cocking?” The voice was gravely, but not unpleasant. Sounded like a dame. Sounded calm as a lake at midnight and just as cold. I wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“I can hear you in the kitchen, down behind the counter, about three feet back from the door.” Okay, right then I was wondering what the blazes was happening! There was no way that she could’ve known exactly where I was like that!

“Pretty sure my .45 can punch right through this shit-hole’s walls too, so either you start talking or I start blasting and we’ll see who comes up aces in the end.”

That did not, despite the almost jovial tone of the speaker, sound especially pleasant.

“Name’s Jane Crocker, PI – I’m here on a case.”

The visitor actually  _ laughed _ . “No kidding. Suddenly this is making a lot more sense. Listen up – I’m coming to you, see? I can already smell what happened here so you don’t need to tell me about the body in the living room. Just put away that piece or my previous offer stands…”

I de-cocked the revolver.

“Good, now put it in the holster.” How in the hell could she  _ know _ what was happening? I slid the gun back into its holster and clicked the retaining snap into place.

“Good job, gumshoe. I’m coming to you.” There was a quick flurry of movement and all of a sudden a short troll’s face was poking around the corner of the kitchen. The first thing I noticed was the Colt model 1911 pistol pointed at my head. When she put it away in a holster at her hip, I was able to take stock of everything else.

She was dressed in an unassuming shirt and tie over a pair of dark trousers. One hip held the holstered pistol and the other one had a badge attached to it. Looked like a detective’s shield. She had an expressive face – little nose and a mouth that looked like it spent a lot of time grinning and cracking wise to folks. Her hair was cut pretty short and what there was of it was pulled back in a bun.

The most striking thing of all were her eyes. Instead of the usual troll yellowish-orange, hers were a dull, cloudy red color. I couldn’t even make out the pupils in the middle. She wore a pair of glasses with dim red lenses that would’ve mostly covered her eyes if they were sitting so far down the bridge of her little pointed nose.

“Jesus – you can calm down, Jane Crocker – you smell like you’re about to have a heart attack.”

“I tend to get that way when a gal shoves a gun in my face!” It probably wasn’t the best decision as far as what to shout back, but it felt right at the time.

She was inside the kitchen, reaching out a hand. “Name’s Terezi Pyrope – detective, 3rd Alternian Precinct.” I took her hand and shook it – she had an incredibly strong grip but her hands were smooth as silk.

At some point in the last thirty years, some genius had decided it would be easier to police the trolls if they added specific precincts for their parts of town. Humans and trolls alike could be assigned to either set of precincts in the Force, but generally this meant trolls policing trolls and humans policing humans. Add that to the existing racial tensions between the humans, the weird blood-caste thing the trolls had going on, and all the issues with the rich and the poor – it was almost as if someone specifically went out of their way to make the most broken, unequal system possible.

3rd Alternian put this city-issued flatfoot right around where I’d been poking about earlier in the day. It also put her jurisdiction way out of the way for where we were now, so this was feeling increasingly unofficial in its capacity.

“Kind of a long way from home?” I wasn’t generally known for my subtlety.

“And you’ve got a dead body gathering flies in here. You mind explaining what’s going on?” So she wasn’t known for hers either, apparently.

I shrugged, gesturing towards the living room. “There’s a stiff in there – troll by the name of Gamzee Makara. Looks like he took three slugs and went down for good. From the look of it, he was probably hit in the chest standing near the kitchen, crawled into the living room, and then took that final coup-de-grace right in the forehead. Out like a light, see you next morning in Hell.”

Terezi’s nose twitched and she sniffed the air. “And from the  _ smell _ of it, he’s been here about two days.”

I was starting to put two and two together that this troll was probably blind, but she seemed to be able to get around almost better than I could with two working eyes. It would explain how she could know I was there… or whether or not I’d holstered my piece.

She continued speaking, still kind of smelling the air. “So you didn’t have anything to do with this. Smells like… gunpowder… but it’s not fresh…” She moved her hands around in the air. “The place is a mess, isn’t it?”

I nodded, not thinking about the fact that she probably couldn’t see me, but something in the movement must have someone tipped her off.

“Yeah, thought so. We should look around the scene for clues. Anything that might point to who did this and why. I’m not exactly here in an official capacity…” That didn’t surprise me in the slightest.

“...but you could say I’m here on  _ behalf _ of an official capacity. Shaking a few trees to see what falls out. And Gamzee Makara…” she winced. “He was the biggest, most rotten fruit of them all.”

Her tone was subdued now. This felt different, but I didn’t know this dame well enough to push the issue.

I slid past her and out towards the living room.

“Your guess is as good as mine as far as the  _ why _ or the  _ who _ , but we can at least pin the  _ how _ and  _ what _ .” I took a look around the room, trying to gather as much as I could about the scene of the crime.

Then it hit me.  _ The envelope _ . I pulled out the envelope Vriska had given me to hand to Gamzee. Hearing Terezi’s  _ huh? _ in my ear, I turned and snapped my fingers.

“That’s the thing! I was sent here to find Gamzee and give him whatever’s in here. Didn’t open it – client privacy and all that – but I think it might be important.” I tore into the envelope and pulled out a letter inside. It was neatly written in fountain pen. For Terezi’s benefit, I read the contents out loud – it wasn’t long.

Gamzee,   
  
The Boston Council has a lot of questions for you regarding your activities in New York.   
Specifically certain unsanctioned markets you’re investing in.   
  
Meet me at Grand Central at 2 pm on Friday afternoon and I’ll help you figure this out. I have contacts in Boston who can be persuaded to speak on your behalf.   
  
Either you sort this out right now or you’re out in the cold.   
  
-Vriska Serket

Like any copper, flatfoot, gumshoe, or g-man I knew at least the basics of the troll Council system. They functioned like most all organized crime – a system of leaders and followers that all trickled down from a central group of individuals who wielded a lot of power over the system. But I was at a loss as to the specifics of the individual Councils or how they related to each other and the human parts of town.

“That’s not especially helpful,” Terezi said, sounding disappointed. “Maybe the Council had him killed, maybe not.”

I told her about the telegram I’d received before – the one Tagora had given to me. Terezi seemed to bristle at the mention of Tagora’s name, but she didn’t say anything about it specifically. Instead,

“I dunno… this is all sounding a bit off. If they wanted to put him on ice so badly, why go to the trouble of making such a big deal out of him going up to Boston?” I was already looking around the apartment as she talked.

There was always a clue – always some sign of the real story if you looked hard enough. Every crime scene tells a story, just just need to work your way from one end to the other and see if you can figure out what it is.

“Pyrope, can you help me check this door?” She walked over – I was looking carefully for signs it’d be forced. Terezi ran her hands along the edge of the wood gently.

“It was unlocked normally – wasn’t busted in.”

“It was ajar when I got here,” I said. “So… he must’ve let the person in.”

Terezi was walking back, smelling the air.

“The shooter fired once here,” she pointed. “Aaaand… once here,” she pointed again. Two spots, one near the middle of the hall, one right by the kitchen wall with the blood splatter. So that was from the second shot.

I looked down at the blood trail. “He must’ve walked… no… crawled into the living room. Two shots in the gut is nothing to sneeze at.”

Terezi was already in the living room, still smelling the air. “Last shot was here,” he pointed again – this time to a spot right in front of where Gamzee was collapsed.

I walked up and looked again at his body – at that disgusting head-rind expanding out the back of his skull. “Last shot must’ve been at close range. Dumdum to the face – messy way to go.”

Terezi was smelling the air again, making a face that suggested intense concentration. “Trying to get a sense of who else was here… I’m getting… some kind of perfume? It’s pretty unique – maybe a custom fragrance? Not something you’d buy out of the Sears catalog, in any case.”

She walked over to the far end of the living room and stopped. “That’s weird… the same perfume smell is over here too.”

I looked over, looked down – a cheap safe was sitting there, partially hidden behind a pile of rags. It was wide open – looked like it’d been forced with a pry bar.

“He had something in that safe down on the floor. Whatever it was, it’s gone now.”

Something to jot down in the old mental notebook. That was a file that was ever-growing – and it seemed like this case was going to be using a lot more of it than I’d previously thought. Terezi was still poking her way around the apartment, so I decided to take the time to do some searching myself.

I got down on my hands and knees to look under the furniture, check for anything that might’ve been missed by whoever was here. Carefully avoiding Gamzee’s blood, I noticed that there was a slip of paper that had fallen to the floor in the kitchen. Reaching out, I retrieved what turned out to be a telegram slip.

“Hey, Terezi, get an earful of this.”

Gamzee -(STOP)-   
We have a mess that you made -(STOP)-   
Now you clean it up -(STOP)- ****__  
I don’t care about your cover as long as its convincing -(STOP)-   
MP

Honestly I couldn’t make heads nor tails of it at the time. Obviously Gamzee was into something heinous, but lacking the specifics I really couldn’t make out what exactly it could be. I wondered to myself if it had anything to do with the mysterious investments mentioned in Vriska’s letter. I didn’t say anything out loud – figured that Terezi was probably drawing the same conclusion at about the same time.

“Crocker, I’ve got something else!” Terezi called from across the apartment, inside of what I assumed was Gamzee’s bedroom.

The bedroom was just as filthy as the rest of the apartment, and I didn’t particularly want to think about what kind of things had gone on inside of there. Discarded liquor bottles were everywhere, along with various bits of trash and discarded clothing. A lot of it looked like it probably didn’t belong to Gamzee.

Even more unsettling was the green-tinted stuff that seemed to be smeared over a lot of the surfaces. It had a peculiar smell that even I noticed, and I could see Terezi visibly recoiling from it.

“Our mysterious perfume-wearer was in here, recently. I think they dropped this.” Terezi held up a matchbook with “Fairy Tale” printed on it, above a stylized drawing of a tall troll dame and two dark-skinned gals who all appeared to be singing.

“I know the name,” I said. “Just by hearsay, but it’s a jazz club just north of Central Park.”

“Whatever it means – it smells just like the mysterious intruder.”

So it seemed like we had a good idea of where we were going next. I checked the time on my pocket watch – almost 10 o’clock. If we got a cab we might still be able to make it to the club before it closed. But if we went in when it was busy, it was just going to draw more attention to us than we already had.

“Tell you what,” I said, thinking as I was talking. “Why don’t we grab some sleep and meet up at that joint right after they close. Call it five in the morning?” Terezi approved of this idea, so we shook on it. Together, we made our way to the door.

I stopped.

“You gonna let the locals know about what happened in their backyard?” I had no idea what relationship Terezi had with the local precinct, if any.

“No. This has a bad feel to it, and I don’t entirely trust a lot of the other cops. I’d appreciate it if you kept this under your hat as well.”

I had no issues with that, and I told her as much. Having been a cop once, I tended to not be a particularly big fan of cops in general. Terezi seemed amenable to this way of thinking and we made our way out, careful to close the door behind us.

The whole time I had this real uneasy feeling. We had rooted into something a lot bigger than I expected, and I figured we were only seeing a tiny part of the whole picture right now. We might have a couple leads, but we had a couple hundred questions that weren’t being answered, and that made me nervous. The whole situation made me nervous.

So after parting ways with Terezi, I walked (still nervous) back north, keeping my head down, until I got to my office where I generally spent the night when I wasn’t on a case and lodged in a terrible hotel somewhere. It would’ve been quicker to take a cab, but I wanted to be alone with my thoughts for a while – mull things over and see if I could make any headway as to where everything fit.

All-in-all, it was a long and mostly sleepless night.


	4. Serenade with a Bullet

**South Harlem, New York City**

Harlem was thriving in its own right those days. Despite the generally frigid (by which I mean to say “racist”) attitude shown by many of the paler (which here means “white”) residents of the city and the cops who were their enforcers, the black and hispanic communities in Harlem had formed their own identity with their own businesses and culture. It was a world I was an outsider in, and I tried to be mindful of that fact.

Interestingly (again, this is a euphemism for racism), us white folks had been quicker to embrace the trolls than we’d been to actually give the black and brown folks of our own species a fair shake. Generally a bad deal – the Civil War had only been cool for a few decades when the trolls arrived, and things were going from bad to worse throughout the country these days.

It wasn’t something I usually had to even think about. I stayed in my part of town and I dealt with cheating spouses and thieving employees. They were almost always white folks dealing with various white folk problems in a white folk world.

Which is an extremely long-winded way of saying I felt a bit out of place as soon as I crossed 110th Street. I knew where I was going, at least, and tried not to look like too much a goddamn cop. I had my suit on, but I left the overcoat at home for this one. It was going to be another blistering day, and I figured I’d have a lot of pavement to push underfoot before I was done with it.

Fairy Tale was tucked a couple blocks north of Central Park. It wasn’t exactly in your face, but it wasn’t that hard to find. A small hand-painted sign adorned the space above the closed door. Terezi was standing underneath the sign, smoking a cigarette and looking impatient – I had to check my watch to make sure I was on time – ten-to-five in the morning and it wasn’t even daylight out yet. But the bars were all closed and the staff were all cleaning up.

Terezi had her badge and gun on her belt – she didn’t care if she looked like a cop. I think maybe she thought it might help. I was going to start a lecture on the virtues of retaining a certain degree of discretion but I figured it would be a wasted effort on such a strong-willed gal. It was admirable, to be sure… then again, she’d pulled a gun on me the day before. I think maybe I was falling a little bit in love.

She went first, knocking on the door before shoving it open. The interior was dark, lit by electric lamps that barely scared the shadows out from the middle of the room. There was a short hallway and then we were in the club proper. Stag. Chairs. Tables. Bar. All the basic accouterments needed for your basic jazz club.

“We’re closed!” The voice was ringing – musical – and carried easily across the open floor of the club. I looked over to see the source.

Behind the bar was a dark-skinned gal with striking blonde hair done up behind her head. She had on a purple dress, presumably still on from the night before. She was glaring at us. She saw Terezi’s badge and gun.

“Oh hell no! We’re licensed and everything. You are not coming in here and doing this right now! Rox! Kanaya!”

In a moment, two more gals appeared. One was a human with a very similar appearance the first – she was a touch taller and her skin a slightly different shade of brown. Her hair was darker too – a light reddish brown instead of blonde. She had on a dress that was the same as the first woman’s, but in a deep pink. The other was a troll, easily six feet tall and built like a Greek statue with short, black hard that was done up high off her neck. She had on a red skirt with a black suit top over it. They were all beautiful and they all looked extremely pissed off right now.

I looked over at Terezi and she was actually  _ smiling _ and right about then I thought I wanted to maybe strangle her.

I cut in quickly. “She’s not here on official business and I’m not a cop. We’re following up on a lead in…”

That was it – moment of truth. How much do I tell them? How much do they need to know? How hostile are they going to be?

“I believe that it would be best if you were to leave our establishment quickly,” the troll was speaking. Was that Kanaya or Roxy?

“Kanaya’s right, you need to leave.” The first woman was speaking again. Okay that made the troll Kanaya and the second human Roxy. No idea on the first one though.

Well shit. Guess it was about time to just lay the cards down, roll the dice, flip the coin, mix my metaphors and let the chips fall where they may.

“Gamzee Makara is dead and we found a matchbook for your club in his slum cave.” I was watching their faces carefully as I said it. The first dame looked especially shocked.

“Damara…” Okay, that sounded like a name. Good start.

“Rose, it’s okay,” Kanaya had walked over and wrapped her arms around the woman’s shoulders and was pulling her in close. “It’s fine…”

So that one was Rose. At least I knew what to call all of them. Still, the conversation was happening  _ around _ me and Terezi – we weren’t even really a part of it.

“I… I told her to be careful. To stay away from him…” Rose again. She was crying. Kanaya was rubbing her back softly and kind of rocking back and forth. Roxy was fidgeting and looked like she was looking for any way out of this conversation.

I looked over at Terezi again and her face had grown dark. She wasn’t smiling, and her brow was furrowed. Something about this line of conversation had made things take a hard left turn for her.

“It’s okay…” Kanaya. “We don’t know that she’s hurt. She’s tough. She’s probably out there right now…”

Rose was crying in full now, shivering in Kanaya’s arms. Roxy had come over and put an arm on her shoulder.

“Sis… it’s okay. I know you’re worried. We’re all worried.”

“Look!” Terezi said it loud and everyone kind of jumped. “We found Gamzee shot dead in his apartment, a safe missing its contents, and I could smell the same perfume that was on this matchbook everywhere. It’s not taking a genius to figure out that maybe this Damara you’re talking about was at the scene of the crime. I’m not officially here and we’re both in way over our heads… can you please tell us  _ anything _ that would help us figure this out? Maybe we can find Damara for you.”

Rose looked up through tear-stained eyes and took a deep breath. She patted Kanaya’s arms and the troll let her go. They all took seats around the bar and Rose motioned for us to join them. I sat down heavily on the barstool and looked over at Rose. Kanaya had her hands on her back again, leaning over. I guess that was probably a good thing. She didn’t look okay at all.

Rose looked down at the floor, still crying a little. “We can’t tell you much. Damara was in here about a week ago. She had something going on with Gamzee, I think. It wasn’t very clear what she meant and she wasn’t in the mood to talk much. Mostly she just drank a whole lot.”

“The pawn broker,” Kanaya said quietly, leaning toward Rose. “Don’t forget about that.”

“Oh yeah… it was so off-the-wall… she asked if there was a pawn broker we trusted down near Bowery. It was so specific.”

“I suggested she go to an Alternian by the name of Karkat Vantas. He runs a small pawn shop near the East Village and while he is not typically knowingly involved in illicit activity, he is also quite… tactful as far as who he discloses information to.” Kanaya finished with a precise-looking wave of her hand – that broad was class from the tips of her toes to the end of her horns.

“Yeah… she just kind of left and didn’t come back,” Rose finished with a heavy sigh and it was looking a lot like she felt somehow responsible for whatever trouble that gal had gotten herself into.

The door banged open and we all looked up. Striding into the club was the tall figure of Vriska Serket, wearing that same blue overcoat I saw her in before. She took a seat next to all of us without asking first. Kanaya and Terezi glared at her and I could sense there was at least a little bit of history there.

“Jane Crocker you have become extremely difficult to track down. I stopped by your office and you were nowhere to be found. Fortunately I have contacts who… helpfully informed me where you might be. Luck is often on my side in these matters.” She winked at me and I swear I felt a cold wind heading right down my collar.

“Gamzee is dead.” I said it plainly. No sense in trying to sugar-coat death. “The coppers don’t know yet, but he was shot sometime in the last couple days.”

“Oh, but  _ one _ copper knows,” she pointed at Terezi, who was frowning.

“I’m off the clock, Vriska. This isn’t official police business. Took a few days off.”

“Oh!” Vriska laughed, putting a long-fingered hand to her mouth and grinning that same predatory grin she had the day before. “I heard about that possibility. Running errands for the New York Council now, are we?”

Terezi grit her teeth. “It’s not like that. It’s a long story.”

“Oh I’ll bet it is.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Doesn’t matter. He’s dead and that basically ends my involvement in the whole affair. If you’re keen on not ending up as a light snack for the fishes in the East River, I would strongly suggest that you end your involvement in it as well.”

With that, she stood up, smile still going strong. “Keep the walking-around fund – consider it compensation for having to deal with Gamzee’s festering corpse. I’ll bring the rest of your fee around later today, if it’s no mind to you. I appreciate the discretion – I’ll be reaching out again if I need similar services in the future.”

I would’ve just as soon she not, but I didn’t say anything. Instead I let the dark thoughts pool up inside my mind while I stared straight ahead and waited for the door to bang shut again, signalling Vriska’s departure.

“You should not have involved yourself with her.” Kanaya was looking directly at me. “She is a dangerous person and you have put yourself in danger commensurately.”

“We don’t care about that!” Roxy was talking now, glaring at me. “You’re putting us all at risk while you’re here! You think we want the fucking Council in here? We’re clean up here, and we’re not about to end up in their pocket because some cop-for-hire decides to start poking around.”

Rose was shaking her head. “Look… if you can find out where Damara is and what she’s doing, I would appreciate if you pass the word to us. But don’t for one second think this will make us friends. I don’t want you or your copper friend here to come around unless you have something important to tell us. Do you understand me?”

I nodded. I understood. Like I’ve said before – I try to keep my head down in general.

* * *

**East Village, New York City**

Terezi and I got out of the cab in the East Village and headed right for Karkat’s pawn shop. We were told it would be easy to spot, given that it was creatively named “Karkat’s Pawn Shop” which was about as on-the-nose as it was physically possible to be.

East Village was solidly into troll country, but the distribution was a little more even than Bowery. You got a lot of spill-over from the humans living in Queens and coming into the city. The trolls here were mostly the lowbloods who had some useful purpose that kept them on decent terms with their higher-ups on the blood ladder, so they tended to associate with similarly working-class humans.

The good news was that meant both Terezi and I were decent at navigating the environment, given our general involvement with the salt of the earth folks in the course of our jobs. The bad news was it meant they didn’t much like cops in general. I was able to convince Terezi to put away her damn badge, at least, and loosen her shirt to cover the gun underneath. It wasn’t perfect, but it’d do in a pinch.

Out in the street, we walked in silence until we got to the door of the pawn shop. I didn’t even bother to check if we were being followed or not. Maybe not a wise decision, in hindsight, but you never get to go back and apply that to anything anyway. What happened next happened, regardless.

I went in first, the bright early morning sun cutting out like a lightbulb as we stepped inside the pawn shop with its papered-over windows and dimly lit interior. Trolls didn’t much care for bright sunlight. Something to ask Terezi about later, maybe. I shrugged to myself and walked right on in like I owned the place. Whoever this Karkat fella was, I was hoping he’d have some answers.

From the back of the shop, there was a rattling and a short troll with unkempt short hair and stubby little horns walked up. He was wearing a ratty old gray shirt and a pair of dingy brown pants. I got some quick flashbacks to Sollux in the appliance repair shop, but this one seemed a little less jumpy and a lot more irritable.

“Can I help you two? I’m assuming you’re both cops.” He glared at us. “You walk like cops.”

“This isn’t official. Shut up and listen for a minute.” I figured I’d try leaning in on this one. Play the hunch. Karkat wasn’t shouting at us yet and he wasn’t trying to pull a shotgun so that probably was a good sign.

“Look, we’re here on behalf of a client. Good friend of theirs has gone missing and they’re looking for our help. We’re Crocker and Pyrope, Private Investigators – not gosh darned cops.” Yeah, so half of it was just blatant lies, but sometimes you had to… lie to a few eggs to make an omelette? I’m not sure the analogy works in this case.

“Friend that’s missing is named Damara Megido. Tall-ish troll, mid-tone gray skin. Horns curl forward. Lot of black curly hair, might be pulled back or might not be. Likes the color red a lot. Might’ve come in to sell something. Any of this ringing any bells, Mr. Vantas?”

Karkat shrugged, his face impossible to read beyond the irritation he clearly felt at being in this situation in the first place. “I dunno. Maybe. Maybe not. It’s hard to remember. Sometimes I get confused about things.”

Fine. This was how he was gonna play it. I pulled out an entire sawbuck from the stash Vriska had left us and slapped it down on the counter.

“My good friend Alexander Hamilton, first Secretary of the Treasury of the United States, is very interested in this information.” Karkat stared blankly at the reference, but he scooped up the ten dollars without a second thought.

“Well, I might be remembering a few things.” He looked around, looking nervous. “Woman by that description did happen to come in a couple days ago. Had some very nice jewelry but she wasn’t interested in selling. She wanted me to hold it safe for a bit. Gave me a decent amount of cash to basically do nothing but lock it up anyway.” He shrugged again.

“Guess it was important, but she hasn’t come back to collect yet. And that’s basically it, far as I see it. Maybe there were a couple other details, if my recollection were to be refreshed further…”

I saw movement out of the corner of my eye – Terezi was pushing me down and yelling all of a sudden. While I was still processing that particular piece of information, there was the sound of tires screeching outside the storefront.

The next sound I heard was loud – one I’d heard only one time before – the staccato bark of a Tommy gun starting up outside.


	5. The Dirty Low-Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has some descriptions of past severe physical abuse. While it is not overly explicit, it may be disturbing to readers with those specific triggers.

Glass was flying everywhere – bullets were pinging off of everything inside of the store – Karkat took a hit and went down, hard. He wasn’t moving. I didn’t have time to check on him, but there was enough of his rust-red blood around to make me think he wasn’t getting back up again.

Terezi was shoving me along, pushing us up and behind the counter. I could hear her yell and felt the warm spray as teal blood hit me on the face. She kept pushing, moving us toward the back of the store. She wasn’t shouting – wasn’t even saying anything – just shoving me and I was stumbling to move quicker.

We hit the door to the back room hard and burst through. There was a long hallway that led to an exit that must feed out onto a back alley. Praying that whoever was out there wasn’t splitting their numbers, it was my turn to drag Terezi along and burst out the door.

Daylight hit my eyes like a knife and I squinted, but the alley looked clear. I had no idea how badly Terezi was hurt, but she was at least keeping up with me while I had my arm wrapped around hers.

Through the rushing fog of adrenaline I tried to force my brain to think normally at least for a little bit. They had a car, that much I knew. They also had a Chicago typewriter, and that was definitely a lot more important in this specific moment!

It took a couple seconds before I realized that the gunfire had stopped, and that made my heart beat even faster. I was expecting the car to pull around the back any minute and that’d put the kibosh on the idea of us living to see another day for sure.

I felt Terezi’s hand digging into my arm, pulling me back.

“Wait!” She shouted and I stopped by instinct. She cocked her head and turned around.

“They’re not circling around – they drove off!”

Whoever it was must not have wanted to risk the exposure of sticking around to make sure the job was done. After the amount of lead they’d filled that store with, they probably figured it was a done deal anyway.

The cops would be on their way soon, and I didn’t very much feel like sitting around and answering a lot of uncomfortable questions about what a PI and an off-duty detective were doing in a pawn shop full of bullet-holes with a dead troll behind the counter. At the least, it was going to set us back a few hours. At worst, we’d be in the slammer until they could bother to sort things out in a few days. It wasn’t a luxury we could afford with Damara still missing and no leads on why Gamzee was a slowly-rotting corpse.

“I… gotta get off the street…” Terezi sounded out-of-breath. She was definitely injured, but I had no idea how badly.

Fortunately I knew enough about the lay of the land to know there was a cheap flophouse nearby. The kind of place that tended to rent hourly, if you catch my meaning. It was nearby, and we could make it in about ten minutes at a decent walk.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, we finally arrived at the doors to the little “traveler’s hotel” and walked inside. A disinterested troll clerk was flipping through a dime novel. He barely looked up as we came in.

“Quarter an hour, you break anything it comes outta your wallet or your legs.”

I slapped a five spot on the counter. “We’ll take it for the night, plus some privacy.”

The clerk shrugged and handed me a key. “Second floor, last door on the left. Sticks when you open it but it’ll lock okay.” He was back in his book before he even finished the sentence. Didn’t bother me any – the less he remembered about us, the better.

Terezi needed help getting up the stairs, but it wasn’t far to go. She was walking funny, but I couldn’t tell if it was from an injury to her legs or just pain from something else. Too many questions that would require attention – and decide if we were truly out of luck and would need to try to find a street surgeon somewhere. That was going to be difficult even under ideal circumstances, and someone was actively looking to rub us out.

The door did stick a bit, as advertised, but it clicked open without much effort and we went inside the room. Making sure it was locked and bolted, I led Terezi over to the shabby bed in the middle of the room and sat her down.

“Okay, dollface, I gotta get that shirt off.” I said it with a little bit of a wink – trying to lighten this up at a little to keep her mind off the pain. She grimaced and tried to smile.

“Already, huh? It’s only our first date!” Flattering, but she could be in a bad way. She unbuttoned the shirt and stripped down to her brassiere. That made the issue pretty clear.

There was a decent-sized chunk of glass wedged in her side, right under the ribs. It didn’t look like it hit anything major, but it probably hurt like hell. I went into the grimy bathroom and found a towel that looked more-or-less clean. Scrounging around in the medicine cabinet also revealed a half-used bottle of rubbing alcohol and a bottle of pills that I figured were probably aspirin.

I took the towel and ripped it in half. Once that was done, I soaked the smaller half in rubbing alcohol.

“Hold onto something, cause this is gonna smart a bit.” She grabbed onto my free hand and held tight. I grabbed the glass and pulled back. Teal blood leaked out, but it wasn’t as bad as I’d expected. Sighing inwardly with relief, I used the alcohol-soaked rag to clean the wound. Terezi grit her teeth and squeezed the heck out of my hand, but she didn’t make a sound. Once I’d cleaned out the wound, I took the other strip from the towel and wound it carefully around her side, tucking it in gently.

As I was dressing her wound, I couldn’t help but notice a couple of things.

One – and this was purely a superficial, detective-like observation – was that she was extremely attractive. Nice proportions, kind of muscular in a way that I thought worked  _ very _ well for her, soft skin. Generally good looking. I might’ve found myself biting my own lip and bit and telling myself to cool it.

Two – and this bit gave me some pause – was that she was covered in scars of various sizes. Long, thin lines of light gray traced down her back in erratic patterns. Some larger bits on her shoulders and upper arms. And along the side of her stomach was a large, splotchy patch of light gray that had a slightly different texture from the rest. Everything was healing up, but it had clearly been something bad.

We sat together for a little while, not saying anything. I could hear Terezi’s breathing even out as the pain of the wound subsided into something manageable. Just two gals sitting there on the bed together… yeah.

Her voice was soft when she spoke. “I’m glad that he’s dead.”

“Who?” I kind of got the feeling I already knew the answer.

“Gamzee. I’m glad he’s dead. He was a bad person all the way down and I’m glad he’s lying in that apartment with a hole in his head. Whoever did it… Damara or whoever else… they did the world a favor. I hope they never get caught.”

Her breathing was heavy and she sounded… sounded like she was going to cry. Without warning, she took one of my hands – I didn’t pull away. She moved it slowly around her waist and set it on the splotchy patch of skin.

“He… he did that to me.” I think she was bracing for me to recoil away, but I didn’t. I let her hold my hand against her side, resting on the scar.

“We were together for a while. I’m not even sure  _ why _ now. He was so… gross. But I guess I liked him at first. He seemed so harmless… for a while…”

“It was… he said that I was lying to him about something stupid… I don’t even remember what now. But he kept saying I was lying. It didn’t matter what I said. It didn’t matter how I said it. He took an iron and…” she was crying, the tears were actually rolling down her cheeks. She pressed my hand to the scar and whimpered.

“He did so many things to me. All those scars on my back… a pair of scissors. If he decided I wasn’t talking to him respectfully or wasn’t telling him the truth… or if I was hiding something…” she whimpered again and I moved a little bit closer and put my other arm around her shoulders. Terezi leaned into me, sobbing softly.

“This was all right before I joined the Force. I thought… I thought if I became a detective I could make things right for everyone else that he hurt… for everyone that people like him hurt. It was so hard… but after what I went through I figured it was worth it.”

“Jane… I… I feel so alone all the time.” She leaned her head up against my neck and pressed the hand tighter against her side. My heart was racing… I think hers was too.

“Can you do me a favor?” She asked it in a quiet voice, a whisper up against my neck.

“Can’t answer that if I don’t know what it is.”

“Can you… kiss me?” My heart just about stopped and my jaw nearly dropped on the floor. That was not what I was expecting. Sure, this dame was good looking and maybe that was a thing I wouldn’t mind doing, but this was so sudden. Moving too fast.

“Just once. If you don’t mind.”

Oh what the heck! Nothing was gonna come of it, so why not. I puckered up and leaned in to kiss her…

It was a lot more gentle than I expected… it felt  _ kind _ … and almost… lonely? Her lips touched mine and I closed my eyes as my heart skipped a beat or three. It had been so long since I’d been soft, or warm, or anything other than hard boiled and cynical. I’m a little embarrassed to admit that I think I stayed in that kiss for a little longer than I originally intended.

She pulled back slowly and I opened my eyes to see a face wearing traces of tears and a sad smile.

“Thanks, Jane…” she trailed off. “I know you could’ve left me alone on this… I’m glad you didn’t.”

As soon as she finished, she turned and lay on her stomach on the bed, gingerly avoiding the spot where the glass had hit her. Her eyes were closed and she was snoring inside of five minutes – I wouldn’t know from experience, but my guess was that getting stabbed up in the course of being shot at would tend to take a lot out of you.

I kicked my shoes off, took off my suit jacket, and lay down with my head at her feet. I’d only known Terezi for a couple of days now, but I already felt like there was a chasm a mile wide between where we were now and the sunny afternoon when that Vriska dame had strolled into my office and dropped this whole mess into my lap.

* * *

It was a few hours later when I woke up. I could tell because it was dark out, which is generally a good indicator that at least some time has passed. Terezi was up out of the bed, standing by the hotel’s tiny window that looked out onto an alleyway and another building right across. Her shirt was back on and she looked like she was in a lot less pain than before. She must’ve heard me moving in the bed, because she turned.

“I need to check in with my precinct.”

“I thought you were off the clock.”

Terezi shook her head. “I was, but this changes things. Whoever shot Karkat’s place up was willing to declare war on the city to get us out of the way.”

She made a good point. Filling a store with bullets wasn’t the most subtle move out there – especially when those bullets were moving a little over nine-hundred feet-per-second.

“Whoever the triggerman was, he’s still out there. We’re spinning our wheels and we need to step back and look this over.” Another good point. This gal was tip-top at making those.

It wasn’t even really a conversation to be had. We talked for a minute and in the end I agreed that it would be best if we made our way to the precinct and at least found out what they were doing. I double-checked the makeshift bandage on Terezi’s side and tossed the alcohol rag in the trash. We were down and out the door without even disturbing the bored clerk, who was now sleeping with his head down at the counter.

* * *

**Tribeca, New York City**

Those days, Tribeca was a solidly midblood troll district. It had transformed over the last twenty years into a place where the jade- and teal-bloods worked tirelessly to keep the machinations of Alternian society on Earth going. Due to how the trolls tended to do things, that meant that jade-bloods often ended up working as their doctors and nurses and the teal-bloods ended up as lawyers and police.

The 3rd Alternian precinct was a real bastion of police. A tall, imposing building made of brown stone that resembled a fortress more than anything else. The cab dropped us out front and obviously the lights were on – this was a 24-hour kind of joint – but there also seemed to be a lot of activity. Trolls were going in and out, most of them wearing beat cop uniforms, but a lot of them in suits and ties too.

First thought that came to my mind was  _ this has something to do with us _ but that wasn’t quite right – that was a whole different precinct, and close enough to the human part of town that it’d probably get split between the two groups of cops. No, this was a  _ something-else-happened _ kind of thing.

We walked through the doors, Terezi with her badge back on her hip, and went right up to the desk. And that’s when I did a real double-take.

Sitting at the desk was a troll who could be Terezi’s twin. The hair was a little different, and looking closer I could see that she didn’t have the same red-clouded eyes – but they had the same features. The same face shape, the same cute little nose, and the same kind of devil-may-care energy. It was uncanny. The biggest difference was that this troll was wearing a sergeant’s uniform and not the plain clothes of a detective.

“Detective Pyrope, glad to see you made it in on your day off!” The troll sounded a little bit irritated. “Who’s this?”

“Sarge, this is Jane Crocker – a private eye I’m working a case with.”

Terezi turned to me. “Jane, this is Sergeant Latula Pyrope of the 3rd Alternian precinct.”

Latula grinned in a very familiar way. “Private eye, huh? Great…” She didn’t sound thrilled. I was going to point out I’d been a New York detective for several years but it didn’t seem like it’d make a difference.

“Pyrope, huh – relation?” Yeah, it seemed harmless enough for me to go with that instead.

Latula laughed. “Not exactly. Not real up on Alternian folks, are you?” I shook my head.

“I’m learning, but it’s a process.”

“Whatever,” Latula looked down at the log book in front of her. “Actually, Terezi – since you’re here and the night detective isn’t answering when we ring him, consider yourself back on duty for the night.”

Terezi looked confused and I felt like she’d probably been through a similar thought process to my own regarding the activity around the precinct.

“Why? What happened?”

“Walk with me. Bring your friend – I know they used to be police. I’m not stupid.”

Latula swung open the gate leading back into the precinct for us and we followed along as she continued to chat.

“Reason everyone is so antsy tonight is we had a murder down at the Laughing Purple.”

That had my ears perking for sure. I let her keep talking.

“Someone stormed up in the place, put two slugs in the bouncer’s legs, and bust in and killed some teal-blood that was hanging out there. Fellow by the name of Tagora Gorjek. Real slimeball, but there’s laws we have to uphold now and all that.” She shrugged.

We were winding our way back through the precinct, though the bullpen where the detectives would normally be working, back through the squad rooms. I’d never been in this precinct, but I knew enough from my own experiences to know where we were going. The interrogation rooms – usually in the back of the precinct near the holding cells.

Sure enough, we got to a narrow hallway with a couple small doors off to the side. Latula pointed to the first one, which had a rough looking troll wearing a beat cop’s uniform standing outside.

“Perp is in there, case notes are on the table for whatever that’s worth. Like I said, night detective isn’t answering so you’re up on this one, at least for now. Get her talking if you can, take some notes, hand it all off to the day shift when he gets in. I’ll clock you in. Your friend can observe, but we’re not paying her.” She was already off, walking quickly back down the hallway.

Terezi opened the door, passing a quick nod to the guard on the way, and we stepped into the interrogation room. These things were pretty standard – a table with a couple chairs on one side for us, one chair on the other side for the perp, who was solidly handcuffed to the table which was, in turn, firmly bolted to the floor.

When I saw who the perp was, I stopped in my tracks. I want to say I was surprised, but deep in my heart I know that’s maybe not entirely true.

Sitting at the table was none other than a very displeased-looking Vriska Serket.


	6. The Calm Before

She wasn’t smiling. It didn’t look like they’d roughed her up yet – I’d say on account of she was a broad, but I had no idea how the trolls saw that – but she was definitely not smiling. She saw me and Terezi walk in and her head perked up a little bit.

“I should’ve figured it was a setup…” and her head went back down again. I took up a position on the side of the room, leaning up against the wall while Terezi opened the case note folder from the table and began to flip through. I didn’t pay attention to her – I was watching Vriska. She looked… not guilty. Not caught. Just… defeated.

“You don’t have to bother with the case file,” Vriska was looking up again. “I don’t have anything to hide.”

“I wouldn’t think so.” Terezi was leaning over the table, smelling the air. “You weren’t exactly subtle. Popped Tavros twice in the legs while he was watching the door. Stormed right inside. Found Tagora in his private room, put two in his head. Sound about right?”

“No!” Vriska shouted, leaning as far back as she could, given the fact that she was cuffed to the table. “No it’s not right! Well… okay, the part about Tavros is true. He tried to stop me from getting inside and maybe… I overreacted a little bit.”

If that was her idea of overreacting, I had no desire to get on this dame’s bad side.

“But I didn’t kill Tagora! Don’t you think it was odd that I only had two shells in my revolver? You think I stopped to replace two of them but not the other two? That’s nuts!”

And she had a point there. It was nuts to think that she would stop and do something so incredibly specific. Then again, she’d been the one storming in there with a gun. And Tagora was definitely found dead.

Terezi had stepped back from the table and walked over to me. She leaned in close, putting her lips close to my ear and whispering.

“I don’t think she’s lying… she doesn’t have that… particular smell. It’s hard to explain, but I think she’s telling the truth. Also, the file has almost no information on the crime scene… it was like they rushed to cover things up once they hauled Vriska in.”

She glanced over at Vriska, who’d gone back to staring at the ground.

“I need to check something in evidence. You stay here and talk to her… see if you can find out more about what happened.”

With that, Terezi was out the door and I was alone with the femme fatale again. I wasn’t entirely opposed to Vriska’s aesthetic, but her methods of operation and delivery left me feeling a bit lukewarm.

“I’m not in on whatever this is,” I said. Figured that was a decent start. “Got kinda caught up is all… feeling like a bit of a patsy now.”

She laughed, and the first trace of that smile was back. “Get in line, gumshoe.”

“I wasn’t there to  _ kill _ Tagora. I didn’t even want to hurt Tavros… he’s a fool, but he’s got a good heart. But I needed to talk to Tagora… to make it clear to him.”

“To make  _ what _ clear?”

“That I was  _ done _ . That whatever leverage Gamzee was holding over my head died with him and I wasn’t going along with it anymore.”

“Why do I get the feeling there’s something you’re still not telling me?”

Again, she laughed. “Jane, there is  _ always _ something I’m still not telling you. I don’t like to show my hand while I’m playing… I don’t even want you to know how many cards I’m holding. If you want to deal with me, you’ll have to learn to live with that.”

I most definitely did not want to deal with her, but I figured I didn’t really have much of a choice in the matter. I took a little walk to the other end of the room and retrieved a smoke from my front pocket. I had just gotten it lit and in my mouth when I heard Vriska speak again.

“Gamzee and Tagora were bad people. They did bad things to a lot of folks. Especially women. I didn’t want to get involved with Gamzee, but he had stuff on me. Stuff I didn’t want getting out.”

“So you were with him because you didn’t want to get hurt by whatever blackmail he had?”

“No… not me… someone I care about. I was…  _ with _ Gamzee, and I worked for him. And I felt like shit about it every single day, but I didn’t want my… friend… to get hurt. Now Gamzee’s gone and I’m guessing whatever blackmail he had on me is missing or else Tagora would’ve already moved to pressure me to come back and work for him.”

She sighed deeply. “I was going to tell Tagora I was out for good. Tell him that the Boston Council had already promised me safe passage. Truth is they promised it to me and my… uh…”

“Your lover?” I watched her face as she flushed blue and looked away.

“Yeah… she and I were going to go up to Boston and start over.”

“What was it Gamzee had on the two of you? What was he involved with? You’re not giving me enough to go on if you want me to help you out here!” It was frustrating – she was being so darn vague about everything and I couldn’t make heads nor tails of it!

“On her, not me. She’s a human and Gamzee was threatening to let people know in her work about us. She works for the city and it could get her fired. There was something else too… I won’t talk about it, it’s personal to her. But it was something that folks don’t look kindly toward and it could get her fired too… maybe thrown into the nut house…”

“Okay, but what about Gamzee? What was he  _ doing _ that was so bad?”

“He was selling girls. I don’t mean women either… I mean  _ girls _ . He’d find bad people who would pay a lot of money for that kind of thing. He didn’t say anything to me directly – I was just the one he was using to keep the Council off his back and fucking on the side –” she shuddered at this and looked like she was about to be sick.

“– but I’m smart enough to figure things out if you give me enough time. When I heard the Boston Council was getting wind of his side business and wasn’t happy about it…”

The pieces were clicking into place – the vague telegram and all the secrecy surrounding it. The use of me as a go-between. “You were gonna off him and make it look like the Council did it… or maybe someone else who had a grudge on him. Anyone who wasn’t you. And the Council already guaranteed you’d have somewhere safe to go in Boston with your…  _ friend _ .”

She nodded, silently.

I didn’t feel like I really needed to say much more. She was, like everyone, complicated. I stood there and finished the cigarette. By the time I was done, Terezi had come back with Latula in tow.

“She wasn’t lying about the gun,” Terezi was shaking her head. “Only two chambers had been fired. Superficial wound to Tavros Nitram’s left leg and a near-miss on the right one but he’ll be fine – mostly wounded pride in the first place.”

Terezi looked at Latula. “Book her on discharge of a firearm and simple assault. Keep her overnight to let her cool off and then slap her with a fine and cut her loose. You can take the cuffs off – she ain’t going anywhere.”

Latula shrugged and went to remove Vriska’s handcuffs. Once the gal was free of the cuffs, she stood up and walked over to me, looking me dead in the eye.

“You can still walk away from this. They know you’re not police. They know you’ll stay quiet on this.”

She said that, but I knew it wasn’t true. I couldn’t stay quiet on this anymore – especially not after everything I was learning. It didn’t matter if I was police or not – I was a threat.

And most of all, I’d passed up my chance to walk away from this around the time I walked into Gamzee Makara’s apartment.

* * *

**Flatiron District, New York City**

Terezi and I shared another cab heading back to my office. We could talk privately there, figure out what we wanted to do, then regroup and take our next step. I explained what Vriska had said and Terezi seemed a lot less surprised than maybe I expected. I guess when you’re with someone and they’re an abusive piece of trash, seeing that they’re a piece of trash in other regards is a lot less of a shock.

We didn’t talk about what had happened in the fleabag hotel. I guess maybe we didn’t need to, at least right then. I figured it would come up in conversation eventually, but I was keen to hold off that particular talk for a little while. At least until I could sort through my own feelings on the matter. I’d gotten so used to bottling everything up that feeling emotional… feeling vulnerable… that had a very strange effect on me, and I wasn’t sure exactly how to feel about it yet.

So it was a mostly silent, mostly pleasant cab ride. I sat there and watched the city lights speed by as we puttered our way up towards the Flatiron. I hadn’t seen this much of the trolls’ part of the city in… well, ever. It was an experience, and not one I was wholly against. In fact, I found myself interested in knowing more about their culture… their history… their food. I figured Terezi was maybe starting to rub off on me… maybe in more than one way.

The cab dropped us near my building and we walked the rest of the way, still staying mostly quiet. By my watch it was past 11 at night, and I was getting ready to drop out again, even after the sleep I got in the hotel. But it was only a block and then we were up the stairs and into the hallway where my office (and living space) were. One floor up, one hallway down…

The door was ajar, and I was getting some bad reminders of a dive in the Bowery. I pulled my revolver and looked over to see that Terezi had her Colt already out. She strained, listening.

“I don’t think they’re here anymore.”

I wasn’t planning to take any chances. Using my shoulder, I butted the door open and came into my office with my gun up. No one started shooting at us – in fact, it was pretty clear that no one was there anymore.

The office itself was a complete mess. Whoever had been in there had trashed it. Piles of papers were thrown on the floor and stacks of case files were strewn everywhere. Furniture was damaged, drawers were turned out. And, worst of all, someone had smashed the bottle of bourbon that I kept in my desk.

I went through the rest of the rooms I had – the small bedroom and kitchen. They were both totaled, with everything being ripped or tossed as if someone had either been looking for something, trying to send me a message, or both. At least I shared a bathroom with the floor – that was one less thing for them to destroy.

“Shit.” They had me fighting mad – I almost never talked like that.

Everything was destroyed and I didn’t even have the energy to start taking stock of it. Three years’ worth of work.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked over to see Terezi, her Colt holstered again.

“Hey… so… do you have a place to stay?”

I shook my head. I didn’t have the funds to keep an apartment along with my office.

“You can stay at my place if you want.”

It wasn’t something she’d need to offer twice. I had no other choice. Even if I had another choice… I think I probably would’ve taken her up on the offer anyway. She was sweet and I was getting maybe a little sweet on her, if you’re able to catch my drift. Point being I could think of worse company, and the prospect of sorting through the wreckage right then was completely exhausting.

My decision was made, so I gathered up some clothing (fortunately they’d just tossed it, not destroyed it), packed a bag, and we were ready to be out the door inside of ten minutes.

On my way out, I felt my foot kick something by the door – a small envelope. Looked like a telegram envelope that had probably been slid under the door right before the place had been tossed. Or maybe they’d just missed it – Lord knows that I had. Without thinking twice, I tucked the telegram into my bag. I’d look at it later – right then I didn’t have the energy for whatever cheating spouse or insurance fraud nonsense was contained within.

* * *

**Greenwich Village, New York City**

Another short cab ride later and we were outside of Terezi’s apartment building. Trolls tended to build up these tall, massive apartments that housed a whole bunch of them, but this was one of the older human apartments that had been subdivided from larger housing that was built at the turn of the century. We went in through the door and then up four flights of stairs. I was thinking that Terezi’s legs must be fantastic if she was getting this kind of a workout every single day!

The apartment itself was small – probably calling it “cozy” would’ve been the charitable thing to do. It was a single room with an attached bathroom in another room and a small kitchen kind of shoehorned on the side of the main room, which were nice touches. A single small bed sat in the corner and there was a desk across from it. Papers and files were scattered throughout – clearly Terezi was someone who frequently brought work home with her.

“So… welcome to my home.” Terezi gestured around the room. “Go on and make yourself comfortable. Put your bag down, sit on the bed or the chair. I gotta go change this bandage.”

She made her way into the bathroom and started rummaging through the cabinets, pulling out bandages and some kind of disinfectant. Her shirt was off and on the floor and I found my eyes wandering over. I figured that was at least a little bit disrespectful so I parked my rear in the chair and looked out the window.

With the wound cleaned and re-dressed, Terezi walked out of the bathroom and went to sit on the bed. She casually slipped off her shoes and pants, sitting there wearing nothing but bloomers and the bra from before. I was blushing and really hoped that she couldn’t somehow sense that using her nose or some equally strange thing.

“Jane, am I making you uncomfortable?”

“No, doll, I’m fine. Just a bit… warm in here.”

“How do you feel about gals, generally?” Okay, that question was kind of out of left field. Or… maybe not so much, given what had happened in the hotel.

“Well, I figure they’re the same as fellas, far as I’m concerned. Both are nice, in their own way.”

Terezi smiled at that, and I could’ve sworn I saw her blushing. It was hard to tell - the teal flush blended with her skin.

“How do you feel about me, specifically?” And suddenly it was probably ten degrees warmer, at least. My collar felt a lot tighter – enough that I loosened the top button and took off my tie. But she was actually asking that question – that was something that had just happened.

“Why… I think… I think you’re…” Beautiful. I don’t know you very well. But also beautiful. Pretty nice to kiss. “I think you’re swell, Terezi.”

Nailed it, Jane. Really a-number-one response. Terezi looked nervous – she was definitely blushing. Then again, so was I so that was nothing I could judge her for.

“Do you want to kiss me again?”

I absolutely did want to do that again.

“Uh…” Smooth as silk, Jane. Smooth… as… silk.

I didn’t recall taking my jacket off, but it was definitely off. Also I guess I’d been fidgeting with my shirt buttons – which is to say I had unbuttoned half of them. Also I was apparently sitting on the bed next to Terezi. Funny how that kind of stuff happens – how things run away on you.

“I know I can’t  _ see _ you… but I can still see you. Everything comes together to make a picture just as vivid as what you see with your eyes… maybe even more so. It’s hard to explain it but… I think you’re real pretty, Jane. I know we don’t know each other very well yet but… kissing you felt good and if that’s good enough for you right now, I’d like to do it again.”

“I mean…” I was trying very hard not to trip over my own words. “If that’s good enough for you, then I guess it’s good enough for me.”

“Yeah… it is.”

She was kissing me – I was kissing her. We were close and I had my arms around her waist, being very careful not to grab her where the bandage was. She put her arms behind my head, grabbed my hair, pulled me in. I could feel her tongue dance gently against mine for a second and that was… that was new. Unexpected. Not unwelcome though.

I’ve heard that sometimes you can develop a particularly strong bond with someone you share a life-or-death experience with. So maybe that was what was happening. Maybe it was all some kind of mixed-up meeting over shared pain and this would last until the Sun crested the horizon a couple more times. Maybe. Maybe not.

Maybe I didn’t care right then.

I kissed her again.


	7. The Impending Storm

Again, I woke up in an unfamiliar bed. Except this time Terezi wasn’t standing by the window – she was cradled in my arms. My shirt was still on, albeit in a state of disarray. My pants were still on as well. Don’t go getting any ideas – I’m a lady that likes to take it slow!

It was morning proper now – Thursday by my reckoning – and this wasn’t how I had expected to spend my week at all. Specific bits and pieces had been nice enough, but the whole was pretty terrible. It was dawning on me that we were basically at the end of our leads. Vriska wasn’t forthcoming enough to provide us with any more – if she even had anything useful to say. Both Gamzee and Tagora, the only two we knew were connected to Gamzee’s “investments” (which had turned out to be selling underage girls to perverts), were both stone dead. Whoever was killing them (and I strongly suspected it was Damara at this point) was still at large.

In my deepest heart I wanted to just let Damara continue on her revenge bender and wipe out whoever else might be connected to this whole thing. She certainly seemed good enough at it. Terezi and I could figure out what to do from there. I didn’t want anything else to do with the whole sordid mess.

At least, that’s what I kept trying to tell myself. But the thing about your conscience is it tends to gnaw its way out from whatever shell you try to put it inside to get by in the world. And I couldn’t stop thinking about all the scars Terezi had. How many other gals had been in that same position? How many of them were even younger than Terezi had been? How many of them didn’t get out in time and ended up buried in some shallow grave off the side of a dirt road in Jersey or Connecticut somewhere?

So no, I wasn’t going to be letting this one go. But I also didn’t have any leads.

Then I remembered the telegram I’d shoved in my bag.

I got up, carefully rolling Terezi off of me so I wouldn’t aggravate her injury. She shifted and snorted, but stayed asleep. Quietly, I went to my bag and pulled out the envelope. Standard logos on it from the telegram service, nothing notable. I pulled the telegram slip out.

Ms. Crocker -(STOP)-   
  
I am aware of your investigation -(STOP)-   
Please meet at the Cloisters Thursday at 2 pm -(STOP)-   
Vitally important -(STOP)-   
I have information of a sensitive nature -(STOP)-   
Will be wearing green dress and black shawl -(STOP)-   
  
J. Harley

And just like that, I had a lead again.

* * *

**Hudson Heights, New York City**

The Cloisters were a series of buildings that had been moved from Europe in the early 1920’s by a group of highblood trolls who happened to really like the look of old European architecture. They had been painstakingly re-assembled in Washington Heights and then, as a gesture of goodwill towards the humans, they were opened to the public. Realistically, it was probably a stunt to try to drum up some good press for the highbloods as they were working to really tie down their control over Lower Manhattan, but that kind of political wrangling didn’t really concern me.

We showed up a little bit early to give us time to take the lay of the land, just in case things turned ugly again. Having Terezi along was helpful – her senses gave us an edge in terms of sussing out potential threats that might be hidden from normal eyesight. We made a couple rounds of the Cloisters just to make sure the coast was clear, then settled down together on a bench with a good view of the entrances to wait for our mystery contact.

The name “Harley” was familiar to pretty much anyone who lived in New York City. The patriarch of the Harley clan was a reclusive man by the name of Jacob Harley, who had an imposing mansion at the very northern end of Manhattan Island. He had made his fortune in various industries, invested heavily with the Alternians when they showed up, and built himself a legacy that was probably more than a little built on the backs of thousands of unfortunates who would never see a red cent of his fortune.

Harley’s children had all died relatively young, but not before they managed to produce a couple of heirs. The only ones that I was aware of were Jacob English and Jade Harley, children of two of Jacob Harley’s children.

So “J. Harley” wasn’t an especially helpful moniker, although I figured the green dress and shawl meant it was more likely to be Jade than the old man. Old man Harley was more likely to be  _ involved _ in criminal activity than help uncover it, so that was right out.

It was just after two when a woman wearing a green dress and a black shawl showed up in the Cloisters. She had raven black hair, thick-framed glasses, and looked real nervous.

Terezi leaned over. “Bet you a Lincoln that’s our gal.” I wasn’t taking the bet.

“Hey, Jade, over here!” Terezi called out and the lady in the green dress just about jumped. She looked over, looked around nervously. Terezi and I waved and smiled.

People think you have to act all sneaky when meeting up with folks, but in a public place that often draws more attention. It’s better to just act friendly and casual – just a group of gals out for a good time on a nice summer day. In my experience, folks tend to overlook you when you do that. I was glad that Terezi was on the same page – made me like her even more.

Jade walked over slowly, looking nervous, and went to sit down on the bench down at the far end. I leaned over.

“Don’t do that. Just sit close to us and talk normally. People will basically ignore us if we look like we’re just having a friendly chat. Make sure to smile and laugh every so often.”

She scooted over and put her hands in her lap, adjusting her glasses and giving a smile a try. It didn’t look convincing, and I was worried about what was coming next.

“You’re Jane Crocker, right? I read your ad in the papers.” Huh. Good to know that was paying off, at least. After all this was over I was probably going to need extra business just to pay for the damage to my place.

I nodded. “I am. This is Detective Pyrope of the 3rd Alternian Precinct. She’s… we’re investigating a case together.”

“Oh… okay. I sent you that telegram because some things have been happening at home that got me very afraid that my grandfather was into something bad, but then… something happened this morning or sometime last night. I’m not sure… I have my own place in the city and I was staying there. But I went to check on Grandfather this morning and…”

I already knew where this was going. She was tearing up. It wasn’t gonna be good.

“...he was dead! Someone had come into the house and shot him right in the head!”

I saw Terezi shaking her head. She had a phone in her place and no one had rung about it.

“I… I haven’t told the police yet. I had the body collected by grandfather’s associates and taken to the family funeral home.”

Ah, there it was. The wealthy truly had their own ways of dealing with problems.

“Why don’t you tell us what you were originally going to,” I suggested. Might as well start at the beginning and work from there.

“Yeah… Grandfather was spending a lot of time traveling down to the Highblood District on the waterfront. Getting a lot of mail and telegrams and spending a lot of time in his study taking phone calls. He used to let me in on most of what he was doing – said that I might have to help run things one day – but now he only lets Jake in on anything. Uh… Jake is my cousin – Jacob English.”

I had figured that one out already. More importantly, I was having a very hard time believing the the third person shot in the head with a connection to the highbloods was just a random coincidence. Especially not when that person was a powerful, wealthy man with access to a truly staggering amount of resources.

“What exactly made you first suspect something was going on?” Good neutral question – hopefully get her talking.

“Well… he had a couple of Alternians show up unexpectedly. Really well-dressed… he said they were business associates. One of them had a woman with him – an Alternian woman. She had these neat curly horns like a ram and this really nice curly black hair. She was so pretty and I wanted to talk with her while they were doing their business thing and she was just waiting but… she had this really far-away look and she wouldn’t say anything.”

That was ringing all kinds of bells. It sounded a lot like a description of Damara Megido to me.

Terezi spoke up – “How long ago was this?”

Jade was furrowing her brow, thinking. “I dunno… maybe two weeks ago? A week and a half? They had other conversations. Then one of the Alternians came by about four days ago and he and Grandfather were shouting at each other a lot. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but it sounded serious. The woman wasn’t with them either… just the scary looking one with the big hair.”

And that sounded like a description of Gamzee Makara. This was definitely not all a coincidence.

“You say you found your grandfather this morning? Tell me about that.” Terezi again. She was keen, I had to admit.

“Well, I always go to check in on him after breakfast but I always ring first to make sure he’s at home. But he didn’t answer and then one of the servants picked up and said that he had locked himself in his study all night and wouldn’t answer the door. They were terrified of entering without permission, but I figured Grandfather wouldn’t mind if  _ I _ checked up on him so I went right over…”

She was starting to tear up, so I placed a hand on her shoulder in what I sincerely hoped was a reassuring manner.

“I got to the study and used my spare key to open the door and… he was dead!” The tears blistered out and down her cheeks. “Someone had shot him right in his favorite chair at the desk!”

“Why not go to the police?” Terezi asked.

“Because… I’m afraid of what the people Grandfather was in business with would do to me. I’m not stupid – I know it’s probably something illegal. I thought he was just a businessman… I guess he was, but I think I was wrong about what kind of business he was in.”

Her shoulders deflated as she finished and she sat back on the stone bench. She kind of stared off into the distance, her back hunched… then perked up.

“What’s my cousin doing here?” I looked up to see a tall, muscular man with black hair and an impressively curled mustache in the distance. He was wearing a white shirt with a stylish vest and matching pants. The suit jacket was held over his arm – no doubt removed as the day was quite warm.

Jade started to raise her hand to wave but I immediately grabbed it and held it down. He didn’t notice us yet, but he would soon. For some reason this felt all kinds of funny. I glanced over at Terezi, who was smelling the air and had her head turned toward Jake Harley as he walked slowly along the cloisters.

One of the hardest things in telling a story is explaining how it feels when a bunch of things all happen at once. So I’m gonna give you the scoop on what happened, and trust me when I say these were all happening at the same time.

Terezi reached over at me and Jade and pushed us back, screaming at us to get behind the nearest wall. She pulled her Colt from its holster and fired the entire magazine as fast as she could toward Jake. A few people nearby were screaming and starting to run, and Jake dropped his suit jacket and he had that Tommy gun in his hands ready to go.

Jade and I headed for a stone wall and tumbled over and Terezi was right behind us, dropping the magazine and reloading from one she had in her belt without even breaking stride. She was  _ fast _ – I mean, like, supernaturally fast. She had the next magazine in the pistol and she was already jumping over the wall with us. Jade was screaming. The only reason I wasn’t screaming is this was the second time this had happened in two gosh-darn days!

“We need to get to the buildings!” Terezi was yelling over the sound of the Tommy gun spitting out lead and the bits of stone chipping and zinging off. I had no idea how long that wall would last before the bullets found a weak spot.

“I’m gonna start shooting, but this only has seven shots until I hafta reload!”

She tapped me on the shoulder and quickly darted out to the side of the wall and fired at Jake again. She was taking longer to aim, risking herself in order to make every shot count. I grabbed Jade roughly by the arm and half-hauled her along as we made a beeline for the nearest building. The Cloisters were open, but they had a lot of stone and that meant a lot of cover.

We got around the corner and I heard Terezi’s quick footsteps as she followed after. She was dropping another magazine and reloading. I wondered how many more of those she carried with her – figured it couldn’t be more than a couple.

“I think he’s reloading now. He had a drum on there but he can’t have stashed any of those. That means stick mags which means he’s almost out… unless he’s got a pistol.” She was panting.

I drew my own revolver. I only had six in the gun and another twelve in two speedloaders I kept in my pockets. At this point our best decision was probably to run as fast as we possibly could – I let Terezi know and she nodded.

“Yeah, no shit.”

We took off running down the stone corridor, took a couple random turns, ended up in a kind of garden, then cut across. I looked back quickly and didn’t see Jake, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. Another couple of turns and we cut down a hill, nearly falling in the process. Off the bottom of a wall and we all slumped down. Terezi stopped and looked around.

“I… I don’t hear him coming. It’s hard… with the gunfire…” She shook her head and kind of worked her jaw around. “God… my ears are still ringing.”

“We need to get the heck out of here,” I said – which was completely unnecessary because everyone present knew that. We had a clear path down through the park and out to the city streets where we could probably hail a cab.

Sirens wailed in the distance – the coppers were on their way and it was a safe bet that Jake English wasn’t going to stick around for a showdown at the O-K corral with a couple stick mags and, maybe, a pistol.

Terezi was putting her Colt away in its holster, checking her reserve magazines. I put my revolver back as well – better to not be seen waving that around if the cops showed up sooner than expected. Then I turned and hugged Terezi as tightly as I could.

“Thank god you… you saved us.” If she hadn’t acted so quickly we would’ve been caught in the open when Jake decided to unload his Tommy gun on us. It wouldn’t have ended well.

She smelled like gunpowder and fear, but I didn’t even give a damn. I was grateful to be alive and she’d pulled us out of the fire like a goddamn hero. Forgive my strong language, but this dame was something else and I found myself getting a little carried away. She leaned into the hug, wrapping an arm around me and sighing heavily. I was pretty sure Jade was just standing there wondering what the heck was happening, but it didn’t matter. In that brief second, nothing did.

* * *

**Greenwich Village, New York City**

We managed to get back to Terezi’s apartment without running into Jake English or getting stopped by the cops, so that was at least one thing we had going in our favor. Careful that we weren’t followed, we made our way in through the back and up the staircase to Terezi’s room. As we were walking in, Terezi bent over and scooped up something off the floor – looked like a small envelope. When we were in with the door safely shut behind us, she turned it over in her hands.

“It’s… it’s from  _ Karkat _ !” She sounded surprised, and given our last interaction with him had him taking a slug from a Tommy gun – presumably Mr. English’s handiwork – and falling to the ground in a very dead-looking heap, I couldn’t blame her.

She opened the letter, ran her hands over it, and – and I have no idea how she could even do this – started to read aloud.

Hey jackasses,   
  
After you left me to die when I got shot, I got to thinking about a couple of things.   
Maybe stuff I should’ve told you before, since this is apparently a serious thing now.   
The woman who brought the jewelry came into the store before. Damara Megido was her name, and I sold her a gun about five days ago.   
I don’t know what the deal with the jewelry was and I didn’t ask.   
  
Now please leave me the hell alone forever. ****__  
  
-Karkat Vantas

“Got a real way with words, doesn’t he?” Terezi smirked as she said it. “I guess that doesn’t help very much, does it?”

“I dunno…” I was thinking – trying to put more pieces together. “We know that Damara was armed almost a week ago. That would put her on the timeline to ice Gamzee and then move on to the rest. It sounds a bit like she’s moving down a list of fellas that hurt her – can’t say I blame her, setting aside the various legal issues.”

“Might  _ I  _ make a suggestion?” Jade asked the question with the voice of a mouse. She’d been through a lot today.

“Sure, doll, spit it out.”

“I believe we should head back to my grandfather’s house. The servants have been dismissed for the day and… I believe my grandfather had many secrets he kept from me. Perhaps there is something there that will shed more light on the situation we find ourselves in.”

I didn’t relish the idea of having to go toe-to-toe with Jake English again, but it  _ was _ our best lead. Figured if the cops hadn’t gotten to him, Jake would be circling the city for a bit trying to figure out where we’d gone. We’d have a good shot at maybe figuring something out.

Yeah, let’s go with that – let’s say that it was a good idea at the time, given the circumstances.

It’ll help me feel better, in any case.


	8. The Mausoleum on the River

**Inwood, New York City**

The irony of the fact we were only a short distance from the Cloisters wasn’t lost on me, and I was beginning to understand why Jade had picked that as our meeting spot. Of course, technically speaking, the Harley mansion wasn’t exactly on Manhattan Island. Technically speaking, it existed on a huge chunk of fill that had been dumped into the Hudson at some point to create a kind of artificial half-island sticking off into the river.

It was suitably impressive, the grandiosity and pompousness of the architecture and decor commensurate with the obscene wealth of the man who had lived there. All that wealth hadn’t done a thing to stop him from taking a slug to the head – a slug I strongly suspected had been fired from a .45 wielded by a certain elusive Damara Megido.

Jade led us down a stone bridge that led to the mansion grounds, across the span of the Hudson that had been left in place to give the property the feeling of being on island – or having a moat. I wasn’t sure what the specific intent was, but between the imposing stone and giant gates, the overall feeling was very much that of some medieval castle.

But we weren’t going up to those imposing main gates. Instead, Jade led us off to the side, through a stand of trees, and to a heavy wooden door set in the side of a large stone wall.

“This is the passageway in. It’ll lead us down under the grounds and into the main house.” She produced a key from the folds of her dress and unlocked the door.

With a groaning creak, the massive door swung inward. Inside was a stone staircase that led down at a sharp angle. Every few feet there was a pair of electric lights, giving the whole passageway a surprising amount of illumination. With Terezi and I inside, Jade closed the door firmly behind us and set the lock. After the day’s events, it was definitely better to play it safe.

Our footfalls echoed heavily inside the stone passageway as we walked along. It was cool inside – quiet.

“Grandfather had these passages built all over. This main one connects to most parts of the grounds. It even goes down to the water – he has a boat house along the Hudson.”

I didn’t necessarily  _ want _ to, but I kept being reminded of a tomb as we walked. The way that the piled stone closed in over us, the roof far too close for comfort. I’d never considered if I were claustrophobic, but this sure was making me feel like it. I think the nervousness was really kicked off by almost being fitted for a Chicago overcoat twice in as many days. It had a way of playing with a gal’s feelings!

We took a turn, another turn, and arrived at the base of what looked like a stone staircase running up through the roof. The place really was a gosh darn  _ castle _ ! Jade went first and we all followed, climbing up the stairs in a process that just kind of blended together until we finally arrived at a small landing with another heavy door. Jade pointed.

“This will lead right out into the study. Grandfather always wanted to be able to move around unnoticed.”

That sure did sound suspicious as all get-out, but the old man was dead now so I guessed it didn’t matter much. Jade pushed on the heavy door and it opened with surprisingly little noise – must have been mounted just right to prevent it from squeaking or groaning on its hinges.

The door opened to reveal a massive study – the walls were lined with bookcases and a set of massive windows let in the softly fading afternoon light. A large desk sat at the head of the room.

And right there in front of it, back turned to us, was a figure wearing a familiar blue-hued overcoat.

“Don’t move!” That was Terezi, her hand already holding the Colt – that gal was quicker on the draw than Annie Oakley!

Vriska raised her hands and slowly turned. She looked… different than the last time we’d seen her. Even judged against the standards of how she’d looked in the precinct, she looked drawn-out – tired. Her eyes had a particularly haunted quality to them.

“I just need to look around and I’ll leave.” When I looked closer, I could see that the makeup on her face was stained with the traces of crying.

“Please… just let me look around and I’ll be gone. No one will even know I was here… please…” She sounded like she was begging – I couldn’t believe this was the same woman that had showed up in my office a few days ago so full of confidence and sass.

Terezi had put her Colt away. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“They… they’re not gonna let me go! They know about June!” I did a quick double-take – thought I misheard. For a second I thought she was talking about me, but she definitely said “June.”

I could see Terezi’s mouth twitching. “Who the hell is June and what the hell are you  _ doing here _ ?”

“My gal… she’s my gal – the one I told you about before. I thought it was just Gamzee that knew about her… I was wrong. I got a letter when I got home warning me not to go anywhere. Told me not to go up to Boston in particular.”

Vriska looked like she was about to start crying again. Her whole posture slumped and I don’t think I’d ever seen someone look so completely, utterly defeated.

“I just need something to give me enough leverage to get out. I know the old man was into something dirty…” She had neglected to mention this at all before, of course.

I figured it was my turn to speak up. “What makes you think you’ll get anything out of here? What makes you think he was enough of a dim bulb to leave that kind of evidence?”

She started crying – just sobbing in a rough, ugly way.

“I don’t know! I just don’t have anything else I can do!”

Terezi did something that I wasn’t expecting – she walked over and hugged Vriska. She patted the other troll’s pat softly and whispered something to her, then cradled her in her arms for a minute, softly rocking. I wasn’t sure what was happening, but it felt like a bit of shared trauma – lot of that going around these days.

“I just want to take June and leave this place,” Vriska said it around Terezi’s shoulder, her voice half-muffled. “Even if we’re under the eye of the Boston Council it’ll be better than this. The Boston Council doesn’t have a fucking Gamzee or a Tagora.”

Terezi shushed her and kept holding her like you might hold onto a small child. Jade was kind of standing there with her mouth open, probably wondering what in the heck was even happening. I took the opportunity to start looking around the room.

I wasn’t just flapping my gums earlier – it was highly unlikely that Harley the elder had been stupid enough to just leave evidence lying around. This might be his study and all, but I figured a man that was ruthless enough to amass such a fortune was probably quite adept at keeping his closet skeletons well hidden. The thing of it is – there’s other ways to make connections than having the master plans all laid out in front of you. You look for threads… and you pull.

Walking around the desk, I saw that the carpet underneath was soaked with a bloodstain from the morning. No one had bothered to clean it yet. This must’ve been doing a number on Jade’s head. Regardless of her specific feelings, she’d just seen that someone she cared at least a little bit about had been brutally murdered and that must’ve been quite a shock. I was outdoing myself for understatement – nearly being shot full of lead had that effect on me.

The drawers were mostly empty, which struck me as odd for such a business-minded individual. That meant he was keeping his important papers elsewhere. Again, not a surprise. It took me maybe ten minutes to look through everything while Terezi and Jade sat on a couch in the corner with Vriska and talked quietly.

There was nothing. No important papers. No hidden safe. No clues as to why the old man was murdered or what he’d been in on, specifically. No leverage for Vriska to use to help get her and her gal out of this stinking sinkhole of a city.

I let my eyes dance along the rows of books. Scattered among the shelves were a series of framed photographs. Grandpa Harley looking imposing. Grandpa Harley looking serious. Jade in a flowing dress. Jake English – I shuddered a bit at that one. Grandpa Harley looking dour. Another one of Jade.

And then my eye landed on something I wasn’t expecting – Gamzee Makara’s grinning, evil face.

It was a group photo – Gamzee was on the left with Jacob Harley smiling next to him. Then there was a troll I recognized from my brief interaction with him – Tagora Gorjek. On the far right of the photo was Jake English, looking serious.

And between Jake and Tagora was a troll dame I didn’t recognize. She was wearing a classy blouse and long skirt and her hair was tied up in long braids. Her look was a little different than most of the trolls I was used to – I recognized her as one of the ones they considered to be ruling class – kind of a sea-based subspecies or something like that. I wasn’t a scientist, but I felt like I’d read about them in Time Magazine once.

“Who’s this?” I directed the question to all three of the others as I brought the picture over for them to look at. Terezi and Jade looked confused.

“I… I think she was here once. Grandfather didn’t bother to introduce me and they were talking for a long time in the study. I ended up just going home.”

Vriska was staring. Vriska looked terrified. She reached out with a shaking hand and took the photograph from me.

“I know her. She’s the head of the New York Council – Meenah Peixes.”

She was actually shaking – shivering as if the room temperature had just gone sub-arctic. I was starting to catch on to what was happening here, but I needed to hear it straight.

“What does it mean, Vriska?” I was afraid I already knew the answer. She stared up at me.

“It means this doesn’t ever end. It means… it means I’m either doing whatever they want or I’m dead and June is ruined. Or maybe they’ll leave me alive to see that happen…” She buried her head in her hands. “This doesn’t stop at a couple of disgusting perverts we can take out – it’s rotten at the very heart.”

“Why not just let Damara take care of it? She seems to be doing a bang-up job.” I was trying to be pragmatic, but Vriska didn’t look like it was appreciated.

“You don’t  _ get _ it!” She was starting to yell, but she was right. I might have experience but this whole “vast conspiracy” thing was way out of my depth.

“Meenah isn’t just going to be hanging out at the Laughing Purple of slumming it in some shitbag apartment or holed up alone somewhere. She’s going to be in the fucking Tower and no one will be able to get to her.”

I knew what that meant at least. The Tower, as it was known, was a massive building down near the Financial District, occupied exclusively by the highbloods and their various employees. Given the likelihood of heavily-armed security, getting inside and then back out alive – it would be beyond impossible.

Her train of thought was interrupted as Terezi sharply  _ shhh _ ’ed the group. She motioned with her hands to stay down and stay quiet and started inhaling deeply and turning her head around. I had no idea what had her going, but I knew better than to ignore her.

Jade and Vriska looked confused, but I knew what was happening.  _ He’s already here _ .

“We have to leave, now,” Terezi said it in a hissing whisper. “It’s Jake.”

Now Jade’s eyes grew wide and I could see her starting to lock up. She was about to panic. I had to intervene.

“Look here – you said there was a passage down to the river, right?” I didn’t wait for her to answer – just grabbed her hand and walked over toward the passage. “You’re gonna lead us there and we’re all gonna stroll right on out of here with Jake English being none the wiser.”

Jade nodded, her eyes welling up with tears. She slowly pulled the concealed door back, careful not to make any sound. Once we were all through, she carefully closed the door behind us and we started to descend the staircase as quickly as we could. I looked over at Terezi, hoping she had some way of tracking Jake but she shook her head and gestured to the thick layer of stone above us. Of course – the eerie dead quiet. It made sense that she couldn’t hear anything outside of the passageway.

I could tell from her breathing that Jade was not doing well – she sounded like she was on the verge of all-out panic. So it wasn’t a huge surprise when we hit the bottom of the stairs and she just took off running into the distance – and she was  _ fast _ .

With a frustrated yell, I looked over at Terezi. “Can you keep track of her?” Terezi nodded and we set off after her, but she’d gained at least a minute or two on us. The passage was winding, cutting back and forth under the grounds. I could feel the air getting fresher as we ran, so that was a good sign.

We hit the last turn and we could see straight down to a half-moon of light where the tunnel ended. Jade was standing there.

She wasn’t alone.

Next to her, pointing a pistol at her head, was Jake English. He was saying something we couldn’t hear.

Remember how I said how hard it is to describe everything happening at once? Well that same problem came up once again.

Vriska and Terezi and I were all yelling, hoping to distract him. I could hear Terezi – God bless her beautiful soul – going for her Colt. I pulled my revolver out of the holster, but I was too far to take the shot without hitting Jade.

We were frantically trying to catch up, maybe forty feet away. Jake and Jade were standing on what looked like a high embankment that probably led down toward the water, if my mental picture of the place was even remotely accurate.

Jake’s shoulder grew red and angry with blood. He screamed.

There was a distant  _ crack _ .

Jake toppled over, the pistol falling from his hands as he rolled over and down the embankment.

The three of us came running up to Jade, who was shaking in place. I looked down the embankment in time to see Jake’s body roll into a dense stand of thicket. Terezi was looking around wildly.

“We’ve gotta go! Whoever just shot Jake is out there!” As she yelled this into my ear, I grabbed Jade’s hand and We all took off running in the opposite direction of the gunshot. I couldn’t tell if we were still being shot at, because the blood was rushing so hard in my ears I could barely hear anything.

The path ran along the top of a steep hill which eventually led down to the river. After a hundred yards, it shifted and we cut back under a stone bridge that took us around the other side of the property and, hopefully, out of sight of the gunman who’d shot Jake. We only slowed down once we were under cover.

Vriska was the first one to speak – “Holy shit! What the hell just happened?”

I didn’t think that any of us knew for sure, but I had some general ideas about the Council and cleaning up after messy situations that I shared with the group. Terezi was shaking her head.

“It doesn’t matter right now. We need to get somewhere safe.”

“I know a way we can get back over to the streets without being seen, but we’ll need somewhere to go once we get there,” Jade said, sounding concerned. She had a good point.

It was starting to get dark. We needed to get somewhere that would keep us out of the sights of whoever had just been trying to kill us. Somewhere close, but where we weren’t well-known…

* * *

**South Harlem, New York City**

After knocking on the door of Fairytale for about half a minute, the door finally cracked open to reveal a woman’s face framed in reddish curls. Roxy glared at us.

“Oh hell no we are not doing this.” She started to close the door when she caught sight of Vriska’s face. “Wait… what the hell is  _ she _ doing here?”

I wasn’t going to waste time – I just skipped straight to begging. “Please! We just had someone try to kill us, then someone shot them… we just need somewhere to lay low for a minute. I promise we will be out of your lives for good as soon as we figure out where we need to go!”

Roxy looked at me for a while, then her eyes softened and she looked genuinely sad.

“Fine.”

She opened the door and we all went inside.


	9. Elegy for a Songbird

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Thanks to Goblin for the suggestion on the speakeasy name.

The club wasn’t open yet, but they were getting ready. The bartender was already on site, cleaning glasses and checking taps. Lighting was being readied and the band was there tuning up. On stage, Rose was standing there in a sharp-looking floor-length gown and warming up her voice.

By the bar, a very annoyed-looking Kanaya was drumming her fingers against the countertop.

“You’re a terrible liar, Vriska Serket.” I wasn’t sure what that was supposed to mean, exactly, but I had a feeling this was about the get dicey fast. I hadn’t been smoking much the last couple days – mostly on account of all the getting shot at – but I wanted a smoke so damn bad right then.

Vriska stopped, started to open her mouth, then didn’t. Kanaya was looking at her cooly – not glaring or anything just… looking. Roxy walked up to Kanaya, put a hand on her shoulder and raised an eyebrow in a way that was almost certainly meaningful but that was totally lost on me. Kanaya nodded, smiled briefly, and Roxy took a seat at the bar.

“You think I don’t still know anyone from the old days?” Her tone suggested that she did, in fact, still know quite a few people from the old days. Vriska looked deflated. “Do you think I am, perhaps, an especially stupid wriggler who has just recently hatched a handful of cycles ago?”

Vriska didn’t respond, and I got the feeling that this was more of a one-sided conversation. Kanaya walked over to Vriska and put a long-fingered hand under her chin, placing her thumb squarely in the middle of Vriska’s bottom lip and smiling in a way that only be described as “profoundly sad.”

“I heard about you and June. June Egbert… works for the city planning commission. Up-and-coming career gal with a mysterious past that everyone overlooks because she’s an absolute  _ doll _ to work with… no one suspects that  _ she  _ is hiding from…”

“Don’t you dare!” Vriska glared, but didn’t move. “Don’t say it – it’s not your damn business to say!”

Kanaya raised an eyebrow and smiled. “I wasn’t going to. I was just going to say that she’s hiding from her past. Like so many of us, really.” Kanaya shrugged and reached down, taking Vriska’s hand in hers.

“I won’t lie… I was quite depressed when things didn’t work out between us. I was quite smitten with you, even though I think you were oftentimes overly standoffish and more than a little crass.” Kanaya shrugged. “But I bore you no ill-will. When I heard that you had started a relationship with Gamzee Makara I was… distressed.”

Vriska was looking at the floor. “He… he blackmailed me. He had photos of June… photos of her naked and photos of her with me. He was threatening to release them and then everyone would know and she’d be ruined. He said if I didn’t work for him and I didn’t sleep with him… that’s what he’d do.”

Kanaya’s face grew long and I saw her swallow hard, her bottom lip quivering.

“I am… truly sorry. I did not know this before. If I had… I do not know. Perhaps I would have made different choices regarding my level of continued involvement with the Council.”

“It wasn’t your fault. That piece of shit’s dead now anyway.” She shifted in place and I saw her squeeze Kanaya’s hand. “I was gonna kill him. I had made a plan and everything – I was gonna get him panicking over the Boston Council coming to get him for what he did… I was gonna…”

She was starting to cry. Once again, I was seeing a version of this woman that was nothing like the tough-as-nails dame who walked into my office a few days ago.

“Fuck… Kanaya, I love her. A lot. I didn’t think I  _ could _ love someone like that, but I do. I want to just… run away with her. I don’t think the Council will let us leave now…”

“He hurt everyone he came into contact with.” It was Roxy’s voice, soft and musical and carrying perfectly from her seat. She sounded distant and sad. “I knew Damara before she was with him. We all did.”

That perked my ears right up. Roxy kept talking.

“She sang at a little speakeasy down near Bowery. Little hole-in-the-wall called The Diamond Cabaret.” Roxy laughed a little as she said the name, and I felt like there was a joke I was missing.

“She would come up here sometimes on her nights off and hang out – just talk for hours. She loved it here. Loved listening to the band. Loved hearing Rose sing. They’d get to talking music and it would be five in the morning and it was time for her to head home.”

Roxy looked… indescribably sad. So did Kanaya. This was something raw and painful.

“I… didn’t know…” Vriska shook her head.

“Not many people did,” Roxy said, her voice low. “Damara was a private person. She didn’t really talk about her personal life all that much. All I know is that eventually she stopped coming in here anymore. We never really went down to the Bowery to look for her… sometimes…”

Roxy trailed off and looked over at Kanaya, who lowered her head.

“Sometimes I wish we’d gone down just to check on her. But we all figured she just moved on to better things.”

Kanaya sighed and interjected. “We heard that she was with Gamzee but we didn’t know the details. As far as we knew, he was a disgusting creep, but that was it. He seems to have had something of a slime habit, so I think we just wrote off his personality as being part of the drugs.”

“He was selling girls.” My voice sounded empty in the club – hollow. Kanaya looked from me to Vriska, who nodded.

“It’s true. I don’t… I don’t know many details. He kept a lot of stuff from me… I think he knew that if I found out everything I wouldn’t help even with his leverage. I thought maybe he was involved in prostitution or something… and I think he was, but I think it was worse than that.”

“The Boston Council wouldn’t like that,” Kanaya said. “They’ve had a… historically grim view on matters involving sexual exploitation.”

Vriska sighed. “They didn’t like it. I don’t know if they were getting ready to ice him but… I wasn’t going to take any chances.”

I cut in – “Except someone got to him before anyone else, and we think it was probably Damara.”

“That makes no goddamn sense!” Roxy slapped her hand down hard on the counter. “She wasn’t like that! She was quiet – she was always in a good mood – always tried to look on the bright side of things!” Now Roxy was crying – every gal in this joint was crying and I was worried I was gonna be next with everything I was hearing.

“Sometimes… sometimes things change you…” Vriska said quietly, her voice fading off.

Terezi had been standing quietly, watching all of this, but she finally spoke up. “We need to go to the Diamond and find out where she is. At least see if anyone knows where she lived.”

“I agree.” Vriska, again. “If she’s planning to make Peixes her next target, we need to talk to her first or she’s gonna get herself killed.”

There wasn’t even a hint of talk about getting justice for Gamzee or Tagora. Because, ultimately, justice was them filling a six foot hole in the ground. We all knew it.

I looked over at Kanaya. “I need to ask you a favor…”

He glared at me. “And why do you think I owe you any such thing?”

I started to stammer out some kind of nonsense reason when I saw Vriska squeeze Kanaya’s hand.

“Please… for old time’s sake, please help us on this.”

Finally, Kanaya nodded. “I am not doing anything that will put Rose or Roxy in danger. Rose is… Rose is everything to me, and Roxy is everything to her. I cannot do that and you cannot make me.”

“Don’t worry,” I said, “it’s not dangerous. I just need you to keep an eye on this gal here.” I pointed at Jade, who had been watching this whole exchange intently. “Keep her out of trouble, don’t let her leave alone. I think this whole thing is gonna boil over one way or another soon… she’ll be safe once it does, or she’ll find a way out of town.”

I said it wasn’t dangerous, but I couldn’t be sure. I’d certainly been wrong in the past. But I was pretty sure it wasn’t going to be very dangerous, and that was about as good as it was going to get.

Roxy smiled. “We’ll keep her safe here. She can help wait tables tonight – I think I’ve got an outfit that’ll fit her.”

Jade was smiling at that, and I think the idea of doing something so  _ normal _ was appealing to her right then. With that, Vriska, Terezi, and I all headed out to track down a lead that had been evading us for days.

* * *

**The Bowery, New York City**

“Hole in the wall” was charitable, at least from outward appearances. The Diamond Cabaret was down a short flight of stairs under a boarded-up storefront, with only a small neon sign advertising its presence. If the United States government had, in some bizarre alternate universe, been stupid enough to actually try to ban alcohol, I guessed that this place probably would’ve still existed, albeit without the neon to advertise at all.

It was late enough now that the early patrons were starting to file in, headed down and in through a door that had a window slit in it.

We got to the door. The slit opened. I saw a familiar pair of eyes on a troll with massive horns. The eyes flitted from me, to Terezi… to Vriska.

“Oh no! No! We’re not doing this!” It was Tavros Nitram, the bouncer from the Laughing Purple. The opening shut. I banged on the door.

“Gosh darn it! We need to come in and ask some questions!”

“No!” The voice was muffled from behind the door. “The last time I saw her, she shot me in the darn leg! She tried to shoot me in the other one too but she’s a lousy shot so she missed!”

I glared at Vriska. That was one who needed to learn to exercise some self-control!

“Tavros, look…” Vriska started to talk but I threw her a glare and she stopped.

“Tavros… please let us in. We have to ask some questions about a woman that works here – Damara Megido.”

The little window opened again. “Damara?” Tavros looked worried. “Have you heard from her?”

I shook my head. “No, and we need to talk to someone who might know where she is. She’s… she’s in a lot of trouble.”

The door clicked and opened, revealing the massive troll with the large bull horns behind. He glared at Vriska and I stopped in the doorway.

“Look… I don’t think you two will ever be friends here, but I do think you need to have a little chat…”

Tavros eyed Vriska suspiciously, but then he nodded. “I heard about Gamzee and Tagora. I don’t work there anymore, by the way. That wasn’t right what they were doing.”

We started to walk when Tavros stopped us. “Hey, I’m gonna need those heaters off you two.”

Terezi turned, showed her badge, and shook her head. “No, you’re not.” And she kept walking. I followed close behind.

The inside of the Diamond Cabaret was a lot nicer than the outside. It wasn’t an ostentatious place by any stretch of the imagination, but it had a kind of homey charm to it that made it feel comfortable. Cigarette and cigar smoke wafted through the air and the smell of booze was strong. There was a little makeshift stage made of what looked like palettes in the corner with an aging microphone in front of it. The bar was a counter along the side with various bottles and jugs stacked on shelves behind it.

Patrons were dotted throughout the bar, mostly in clumps of two or three. Nothing had really gotten kicked off for the night, so it was still quiet. Most of them were just smoking and drinking and having a quiet conversation.

Behind the bar was a bored-looking troll with a scraggly mop of hair and bags under his tired-looking eyes. His horns sharply folded midway back toward his head. He looked over at Terezi and I with an expression of mild disinterest. I looked over at Terezi who gave me a slight nod. We’d do this easy first.

“Good evening, sir,” I said, quiet politely. “Might I trouble you for a bit of information?”

The troll looked me up and down. “Shove off, broad.” I rolled my eyes and turned to Terezi. We’d do this less-easy now.

Terezi took out her badge and slammed it down on the bar. The other patrons didn’t even look up.

“Detective Pyrope, New York Police Department. I’ve got questions, I hope you’ve got answers.”

The bartender’s eyes grew wide and he took a step back. “Shit! We’re current on everything! We don’t owe anybody anything! We’re all paid up  _ and _ good with the City!”

“This isn’t about that,” Terezi narrowed her eyes. “This is about Damara Megido.”

As soon as he heard the name, the troll’s face changed. He didn’t look angry or frightened anymore – he looked like someone had taken a knife and hollowed his guts out. Well, maybe not that bad, but he looked pretty torn-up.

“Have you seen her? She stopped coming in a week ago! I was really worried!”

I didn’t say a word – Terezi knew what to ask about just as much as I did, and she was good at this.

“No, that’s the problem. Me and my partner Detective Crocker here were handed this as a missing person’s case – trying to track her down in connection with some stuff that’s been happening.” If the bartender questioned the idea of a troll and human detective being paired up, he didn’t bother to say anything. That was good.

“Let’s start with the basics – when’s the last time you saw her?”

“Like I said, it was about a week ago. She came in and I guess she’d had a fight with this fella she was seeing.”

“Was this fella named Gamzee, by any chance?”

The bartender’s eyes lit up. “Yeah… how’d you know that? Is he in some kinda trouble?” Yeah, I suppose you could put it that way.

“Sir, I’m not allowed to discuss ongoing police matters. What makes you think they had a fight?”

“Well… she said some stuff about how she wasn’t going to let him walk all over her anymore. That she had to do something soon or it would be too late. I thought she was maybe being dramatic…”

“So a gal gets upset and all of a sudden she’s hysterical, is that right?” Terezi raised an eyebrow.”

“N-no! That’s not what I meant!” He was clearly out of his element when dealing with Terezi. I smiled, inwardly. “I just mean… I guess I didn’t take it as seriously as I should’ve.” He looked down at the floor.

“Did you see her after that?”

He shook his head. “No, that was the last I saw of her. She was acting really weird that night – distracted. Then she left for home like usual and she didn’t come back the next night. She wasn’t like that, but I figured she had something else going on.” His posture completely deflated. He felt bad about this – I wasn’t going to push him anymore.

The timeline was starting to add up. About a week ago – that put things right before when Gamzee was killed, most likely. And no one had seen her since, so it seemed like my theory was holding up pretty soundly. The trick, of course, wasn’t figuring it out – the trick was tracking Damara down and deciding what to do next!

I spoke up – “Sir, can you give us her address? We’d like to see if she’s at home to answer some questions, or at least to leave a note on her door.”

The bartender rummaged under the counter and retrieved a slip of paper. “Sure, he’s her apartment – it’s only about a five, ten minute walk from here. Easy.”

Terezi and I waved and headed back toward the door. Vriska and Tavros were standing together, talking in a low voice. They didn’t seem to be especially happy, but they weren’t shooting each other in the legs either, so that was definitely progress. Vriska looked up and saw us and walked over.

“Uh… I’m sorry. For being such a huge bitch.”

I blinked and looked over at Terezi, who shrugged.

“Okay… sure.” That was about all I could say.

“Seriously. I talked to Tavros a little bit… I… I was really flying off the handle the day I shot at him…” She looked over at a glaring Tavros. “Okay… the day I  _ shot _ him. I’m glad it wasn’t worse because I was just… I just really wanted to fucking kill Tagora, okay.”

She was growling and I put a hand on her shoulder.

“Listen, I know there’s stuff you probably need to work out… right now we could really use your help. We don’t know the Council like you do.”

Vriska smiled at me. “Thanks, Jane.” She looked over at Tavros, who nodded. “I’ll come back to that later. I need to help my… my… friends right now.”

I wasn’t sure if I would’ve necessarily call us “friends” but I let her have it. We’d been through enough trauma bonding together that I felt like we were all getting close a lot faster than maybe was typical.

So we were out the door and starting up the stairs – and Terezi sniffed the air and hauled us all into the far corner of the little well in front of the bar.

“Stay in the shadows and act drunk, now,” she hissed. We all huddled together and talked about random nonsense, throwing in a few giggles here and there. As we stood there, a tall troll wearing a purple suit glided past, making a  _ pfff _ noise at us as he went. Once he was inside the Diamond Cabaret, Terezi pulled us all back and we went up the stairs in a hurry.

“I think I’ve seen him,” Vriska said quietly. “I think he’s from Boston.”

“Whoever he is, he’s a highblood,” Terezi added. “Like… indigo blood. One of the top.”

The blood terminology was only passingly meaningful to me, but the way she said it meant a whole heck of a lot. We all walked quicker as we set off into the Bowery in the direction of Damara Megido’s apartment.

* * *

Once again, we were standing in front of a shabby dive of an apartment. This one was significantly nicer than Gazmee’s home-away-from-home, but it was still pretty run-down. The lowbloods that mostly lived here perpetually got the short end of the stick. The gate wasn’t even locked and we went up to the apartment without running into anyone else.

At the door, Terezi knocked sharply and announced herself as police. There was no response from inside, and under the door didn’t show any trace of light from within. Terezi braced herself, getting ready to kick the door down, when Vriska stepped in and turned the handle. It clicked open softly.

Terezi made a face as soon as the door opened.

“Oh shit that smell…”

Even I could tell something was up. The place was reeking like… well, like a corpse. I knew immediately that something had happened. I was racking my brain trying to think of any other possible victims. No one had been mentioned. Meenah would never come here. There had to be another accomplice that Damara had taken out – judging by the smell, they’d been here a few days. Probably around the same time as Gamzee, maybe earlier.

I found a light switch and clicked it on. The apartment was sparsely furnished, but some of the decor had been knocked around. I didn’t see any blood or bullet holes, so that was at least promising. Terezi was quickly moving through the apartment, checking for anyone or anything that would give us some clue. And that smell… it was getting stronger.

Vriska was just kind of standing there, looking around, her face a mask of confusion and worry. Ironically, given her connections to the Council, she was probably the most out of her depth of the three of us.

Terezi went back into the hall, then down to the bathroom. She stopped at the door, turned, and threw up on the floor. I went rushing over, putting my hand on her back. She was heaving and pinching her nose.

The bathroom was dark, but there was a light switch outside the door. I flipped it and the bulb flickered to life.

I looked inside the bathroom.

My stomach turned.

Lying there naked in the tub, surrounded by dried blood that had once pooled near slits in her wrists, was a body that was unmistakably that of Damara Megido.

And then it was my turn to throw up.


	10. My Other Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: This chapter has some descriptions of crime scene violence. It is not very graphic, but may be disturbing to readers with those triggers.

It was a minute or two before my stomach finally decided it was done expelling literally everything I’d had to eat or drink in the past twelve hours or so – which fortunately wasn’t that much. I tried desperately to get that under control so I could check the scene of Damara’s suicide, but eventually I gave up and closed the bathroom door, returning to the living room where Terezi and Vriska were standing. Well, Terezi wasn’t so much standing as hunched on the floor and clutching her stomach.

I opened the windows, hoping that it would help with the smell a bit. The apartment was stuffy already from the August heat, and having a body festering in the tub for a few days wasn’t helping anything.

“I don’t get it…” Vriska was speaking to no one, looking off into the distance. “If she’s dead… how… I don’t understand.”

I was pacing the living room, trying to put the pieces together myself. If she’d been dead for a couple days, she couldn’t have killed Jacob Harley or Tagora Gorjek. Even Gamzee Makara was questionable – depending on whether or not she’d been dead for more than about three or four days. The timeline I’d been working to so carefully put together was disintegrating in front of my eyes and I had nothing to put back in its place except a bunch of newly unanswered questions. So I was right back at the beginning again.

“Shit…” Terezi was still clutching her stomach, although the air coming in from the windows (describing it as “fresh” might’ve been pushing the bounds of plausibility a bit) was definitely helping her out. I took three cigarettes out of my pocket and handed one to both of the gals.

“Light these – it’ll help with the smell a bit.”

Terezi shook her head. “I don’t… messes with my senses and I don’t like how it feels. I’ll be okay.”

I shrugged and lit up, then held the lighter out to Vriska, who gladly obliged. I put the spare smoke back in the pack in my jacket pocket and looked around the room. Every crime scene tells a story, but this one wasn’t saying squat. It didn’t help that most of my experience was decidedly at the less dramatic end of the spectrum than an apartment with a slowly-decaying suicide victim in it.

I was pacing again. Looking around. Maybe there was a clue. Maybe there was a note. Maybe there was  _ something _ that would help to explain…

I stopped.

I saw it.

And I felt my eyes getting wide.

The photo was small – just a little thing that had been shot with one of those pocket cameras. The quality was bad, but I could recognize the subjects.

Damara Megido.

Sollux Captor, from the pawn shop.

And… Damara Megido, again. Except it couldn’t be  _ her _ and I was thinking back to the Terezi look-alike we’d talked to at the precinct – Latula.

Twins. Only not quite. I turned to Terezi.

“We’ve got a problem…”

That was when the door burst in and that second Damara from the photograph – I didn’t even know her actual name – pointed a revolver at Vriska and screamed.

“I’ll fucking kill you!”

Vriska yelled and ran to the window, hitting the fire escape and starting to climb. The troll that had burst in the room ran past us, completely ignoring Terezi and I, as she went up after her. We turned and went right after. Looking up, I could see Vriska and the new troll climbing the fire escape. Vriska was at a disadvantage in her skirt and blouse – at least the newcomer was wearing trousers.

I started to climb, followed closely by Terezi. By the time we reached the top of the fire escape, Vriska and the other troll were already on the roof. Vriska had run to the edge and stumbled – the other dame was walking up on her – aiming the revolver.

“You… you helped them… you helped them take her from me… my sister…” Her voice was low and raspy. “I cared about her. I  _ loved _ her. She was my  _ family _ !”

She had the hammer back on the revolver.

“You… you helped Gamzee. She killed herself because you helped Gamzee! He fucking used her and then he threw her away when she was empty and hollow and couldn’t deal with it anymore!”

Vriska had her hands up – she was sobbing. She leaned in, put her arms around the troll’s legs, and pushed her head into the barrel of the revolver. Vriska was saying something – I couldn’t make it out. She spoke in a low whisper. The troll heard her.

There was a  _ thud _ as the revolver hit the floor and the troll was on her knees, holding Vriska. They were both sobbing. I looked over at Terezi, whose mouth was agape – there were tears in her eyes. I think she heard what Vriska said…

“...didn’t want to… didn’t have a choice… he would’ve told everyone and she would’ve been fired or worse…” The words were coming out between Vriska’s sobs.

“I really didn’t want to but… he  _ made _ me. He never hit me… he didn’t  _ have _ to hit me. He could do so much just… just with… just by doing everything else.” She broke out into a whimpering cry and the troll had her arms wrapped tightly around Vriska’s shoulders.

“Aradia,” she said quietly. “My name is Aradia. I’m sorry… I don’t always think about what I’m doing before I do it.”

Vriska was still trying to talk through her sobs. “I care about her so much… was gonna do anything to protect her… I didn’t want her to know. Didn’t want her to worry. Didn’t… didn’t want her to hate me…”

“I… I’m holding you.” Aradia said it quietly and hugged Vriska a little tighter. “If that’s not okay I can let go.”

Vriska shook her head. “No… please don’t… not right now.”

I felt Terezi’s hand on my shoulder. “Hey… we should give them a minute.”

I nodded – we walked back down the fire escape and into the living room. This had been the strangest week of my life, and it just seemed determined to get stranger with every turn of the clock.

While Aradia and Vriska were still up on the roof, I started turning something over in my mind. Something that felt off – gave me the heebie-jeebies something fierce.

Who drained the tub?

While I was thinking it over, I heard the sound of the fire escape rattling and Vriska and Aradia re-appeared, both of them looking distressed. Vriska had at least stopped crying her eyes out – that was something. Aradia stepped into the room first.

“I’m sorry for trying to kill your friend. I thought she was responsible for something she wasn’t.” Aradia nodded at them. “Again… I’m sorry.”

She looked from me to Terezi, as if she was trying to gauge our reactions but was still unsure.

“Also I killed Gamzee. And Tagora. And the disgusting old man in the mansion, Jacob Harley.”

I wasn’t expecting things to fall into place  _ this _ neatly! The gal was just standing here confessing to multiple murders as if it wasn’t a thing at all!

Aradia sighed. “I owe you all an explanation. Please sit down – if the smell doesn’t bother you too much.”

Terezi and I found a spot on an overstuffed couch near the window. Vriska perched herself on the window sill. Aradia remained standing and looked at each of us, as if trying to evaluate how we felt about her.

“My sister…” She paused. “I’m sorry, that might be confusing. As you might know, Alternians do not have blood relatives like humans do. However, we do have closely matched genetic pairs – almost like your concept of twins. We do not normally bond with our pairs like you do with your relatives, but in my case Damara and I became quite close. We adopted the human word for such a relationship for convenience.”

She stopped talking and looked at each of us again. We all nodded and she continued.

“My sister was not like me – she was very outgoing and social. She liked to be around many humans and trolls. She enjoyed her job as a singer at the Diamond Cabaret. But then she met Gamzee Makara and she changed.”

Aradia looked downcast.

“She wasn’t outgoing and social anymore. She was very unhappy. She confessed to me that he used to hit her and do… other very bad things to her. She did not say directly, but she strongly implied that he was trying to get her to engage in illegal activity she was deeply uncomfortable with.”

Another pause – we nodded again. This seemed to help Aradia focus and she smiled in appreciation – there was a lot of pain behind that smile.

“A few days ago I got a disturbing phone call. Damara said that she was very afraid that Gamzee was going to hurt her. She felt like she couldn’t take it anymore and was terrified all the time. When she did not show up for work that night, I went over to her place…”

Aradia stopped, but this time she was starting to cry.

“When I got here I found her body in the bathtub. Her wrists were cut and she was dead. There was no note… but I knew that she killed herself because of what she was forced to do. I made a promise to find and kill the ones that were responsible.”

“It wasn’t hard to figure things out. I went to Sollux – he’s my… good friend… and he helped me figure out where to start. He cared about Damara too – she was our sister. He was her brother. He was my… something else, not a brother. More like a sweetheart, I think. He helped me find Karkat and I got a gun from him. I’d never had a gun before, but I needed one.”

“I started with Gamzee and before he died he was very willing to tell me about his friends Tagora and Mr. Harley. He had jewelry that belonged to my sister, so I took it back. He also had some dirty photographs of a woman named June Egbert that Ms. Serket mentioned… I didn’t know who she was at the time, but I burned them because they were personal and he shouldn’t have had them.”

I saw Vriska visibly relax at that.

“Did you know Tagora has a special private sound-proof room in the Laughing Purple? I learned that from Gamzee so I found him in there and made him tell me more things. I’m not happy about having to do that, but it was necessary. Tagora told me about how they were finding young girls and lying to them – their plan was evil and uncreative – they just told them lies about having work and then made them do things they didn’t want to do for disgusting men.”

Aradia shivered.

“After Tagora told me this, he mentioned that Jacob Harley was overseeing a lot of the movement of these girls and young women… humans and Alternians, but especially Alternians. It was always lowbloods, like myself and my sister. So I found this all out and then I ended Tagora’s life.”

“When I talked to Jacob Harley, he was very willing to give up his final friends. He told me about how Meenah Peixes was overseeing everything and hiding what she was doing from the other Councils around the country. Many of them take a dim view on that kind of thing, after all. He also told me about his grandson who was acting as their personal enforcer.”

“I think Mr. Harley thought if he gave up the others I would allow him to live.”

She smiled again – it was still nothing but sad.

“He was mistaken.”

All the while that Aradia was talking, that thing in the back of my mind was still bothering me.

Who drained the tub? Why was the blood still there?

“Now there’s only one left… but I have no idea how to get to her.” Aradia frowned – she looked like she was thinking.

I was thinking too.

Who drained the tub? Why was the blood still there?

Every crime scene tells a story – you just need to understand what that story is. To figure out what the clues are telling you. I didn’t want to, but I walked back toward the bathroom. I wasn’t that experienced with this kind of case, but I had a damn good eye. I knew how to look for the little details.

Slit wrists. Blood in the tub. No note. Minor signs of a struggle.

I steeled myself and I opened the door – the smell was as bad as ever and the sight of Damara’s body was getting me ready to throw up again. I pushed past that feeling – there was something wrong.

If the tub had been filled when she killed herself, why was the blood still there? And who drained the tub?

Or she hadn’t been in the water to begin with.

I looked closer at the body – it was starting to swell from the early stages of decomposition. Nearly a week in the August heat would do that. But I could still make out details – the rough slashes on the wrists – the blood tracing down the arms…

...the bruising on the throat.

I stopped and stared, unable to pull my eyes away. Bruising on the throat, consistent with strangulation.

Why was the blood still there? Why was the tub empty? Why didn’t anything about this feel right?

Because it wasn’t a suicide – it was a murder.

A murder that was supposed to  _ look _ like a suicide long enough to fool the average beat cop or overworked city flatfoot.

I stumbled my way back into the living room – the others were standing there, staring at me. Aradia looked me right in the eyes.

“Your sister was murdered.”

I saw Aradia’s face change – her eyes dropped and she started to fidget with her hands. She was shaking her head.

“No… that’s not possible. She killed herself because of what Gamzee did…”

I wanted to go over and comfort her, but what I had to say next wasn’t going to help. I stayed right where I was.

“I’m pretty sure Gamzee is the one who killed her.”

The pieces were clicking into place now. Thinking back to the telegram I’d seen addressed to Gamzee. The mysterious “MP” that now made sense. The mess. The investments. Cleaning things up. All the euphemisms for the worst side of what people could do.

Aradia was still shaking her head.

“I found a telegram in Gamzee’s apartment. It didn’t mean anything at the time, but… I didn’t have all the information. I think… I think Meenah wanted him to get rid of Damara and make it look like an accident.” I paused. “Or suicide.”

Aradia sat down on the floor and cradled herself. I didn’t think that Damara’s death being murder changed much about her approach to the situation, but she obviously had some thinking to do. So did I.

The gears were still turning in my head. There was still another part to this I wasn’t getting… another piece to the puzzle that I had but hadn’t put into place yet. Because I wasn’t thinking about all the different angles. Because I was too close to this now and hadn’t considered it from an outside perspective.

It hit me all at once – the idea burned its way right into my brain like a hot coal. I almost smiled, but that felt like it would’ve been a bit much – but the idea was so  _ simple _ .

“I know how we can get to Meenah.” Yes, I was all-in on this murder thing now. I noticed that neither Vriska nor Terezi seemed to be objecting.

They didn’t interrupt, so I continued – “The Council doesn’t know Gamzee succeeded.”

And there it was. They knew Tagora and Jacob Harley were dead – that had basically happened right in front of them. Word had probably gotten out that Gamzee was dead too. They would be following the same trail as us. They would probably come to the exact same conclusion – that Damara Megido had been icing all the people involved in this whole thing, with Meenah being the logical next stop on the line.

But Gamzee hadn’t been able to tell them about killing Damara – if he had, that would’ve changed the Council’s response dramatically. I needed to know for sure.

“Aradia, when did you kill Gamzee?”

“I… I went there the night after I found my sister. I went to Karkat and got a gun and then I went to Gamzee’s apartment and killed him. He slept there during the day – my sister had told me – so I knew he’d be home.”

It was probably the same day that Damara had actually been killed. No doubt Gamzee figured he had cleaned up all the loose ends and could wait until that evening to let the others know he’d cleaned up his own mess. That would leave them in the position of only having to deal with the Boston Council and not also worrying about a dame on a quest for vengeance and justice.

I actually did smile, then.

“We’re going to walk right in and we’re going to hit Meenah Peixes where she feels safest.”

Vriska laughed at me, all bite and no humor. “And how the hell do you think we’re going to do that.”

“By giving her exactly what she wants.” I pointed toward the bathroom.

It was a gruesome process, but it needed to be done. Terezi found a pocket camera and we made sure to take the photos just right. It needed to be convincing – if it was obvious that the body had been sitting there for a few days then the illusion would fall apart.

There were some other moving pieces to consider – Vriska was going to have to act like she was up on Broadway in order to pull this off. She was the key to getting in the door. The photos were the key to staying in the door.

As to the last piece… the key to getting Meenah Peixes off the board for good. I thought back to Sollux’s crowded shop full of appliances. The idea had been swimming around in my mind, but now it finally solidified and I knew  _ exactly _ what we had to do next.

“Aradia,” I said quietly. “How would you like to pay Sollux a visit?”


	11. The Last Key

It was late now, but Aradia assured us that Sollux would still be home. He lived above the shop, she said, and she knew he was often downstairs working on projects at odd hours anyway. In fact, she explained, it was better to arrive late since there was less of a chance of us being disturbed.

Or, I figured, being shot at by one of the Council’s hired goons. I wasn’t sure if Jake English was still in the picture or not after taking that tumble at Jacob Harley’s mansion, but even if he was down for the count there would always be more to replace him. Rough men ready to do violence were the least interesting, least useful kind of men in the world – and they were  _ always _ in surplus.

We arrived at Sollux’s back door sometime after eleven at night and Aradia knocked loudly. Given our previous experience, I was half-expecting to be greeted with the business end of a sawed-off shotgun. That’s what I was getting ready for as I heard footsteps coming down the back stairs and the clicking of the locks on the door being opened.

Sollux was standing there in the door, wearing a faded nightshirt. He saw Aradia and immediately broke into tears. He held her around her waist and pulled her in close, touching his nose to hers as she smiled.

“Oh thank Christ! I thought you were dead!” He kissed her on the nose and she closed her eyes, still smiling. “I was so worried about you… after what happened when Damara…”

“Sollux, these are my friends…” Aradia spoke quietly and Sollux turned to look at us. I thought “friends” might be a bit strong, but I didn’t say anything. Sollux glowered at us.

“You again. I heard what happened to Karkat’s place. He’s scared to even come out in the open now.”

“Sollux, these women have a plan to kill Meenah Peixes.” I liked how direct she was – I had to give her that.

Sollux looked like he was about to say something else, but he stopped. “Well… come on in then.”

There was a small apartment tucked up above the store, and Sollux led us into a cozy kitchen with a table and set of chairs around it. He and Aradia sat down, holding hands, and Aradia was smiling at him. Once everyone was settled, I started explaining – how Damara’s death wasn’t a suicide, but had been carried out by Gamzee after Meenah “hinted” that it needed to be done. That Aradia’s choice to kill Gamzee when she did had given us a small window of opportunity. We explained the photos that we had. We could develop those and that would buy us in to see Meenah in person.

“It has to be Vriska,” I said – thinking carefully about that part of the plan. “She’s gotta be the one to deliver the photos, even if the rest of us are there. No one is gonna believe that a gumshoe and a city flatfoot are in the business of randomly killing witnesses to help out the Council. We’ll be dead before we can get five feet. But…”

I paused to take a deep breath. I hoped this next part was actually true and not wishful thinking.

“...they might believe that we’re willing to go along with someone who does that out of a desire for money, or to buy our way out of this mess, or whatever. And they will absolutely believe that Vriska sees this as her last way out. That’s our in… we just need to know what to do with it.”

Now it was Sollux’s turn to speak.

“So I can help you with a couple of those things. First off, I’ve got a setup to develop your photos, so let’s do that. Also… I might have a way you can take advantage of the opening you create, if you’re interested.”

I was definitely interested – I followed Sollux down a second set of stairs that led out into his shop. In the back area, he had a little workshop set up with a bench and some tables. He handed me a briefcase – with some wires sticking out of the top. I took it, wondering what I was holding.

“When Aradia told me about her plan, I thought something like this might come up. I know how closely guarded the Council is. So I made a little something.”

“What is it?”

“A bomb.”

Suddenly I had the overwhelming urge to drop the briefcase, although I had no idea what the effect of that would be.

“Relax, it’s not armed yet. It’s a special stabilized explosive I invented inside of a thin metal case in the walls of the briefcase. It’ll seem normal enough at first glance, but I can rig it up to a timer. When it goes off, it’ll kill everyone inside of thirty feet of it.”

He was grinning, obviously proud of his ingenuity. And as much as the thought terrified me – I was too. This was our chance to hit Meenah where she lived without anyone being any the wiser – assuming that Vriska could pull off her part.

“Fine – finish setting it up and we’ll take it. I’ll take all the advantage we can get.”

Back upstairs, Aradia was sitting and chatting with Vriska and Terezi as if nothing unusual was going on at all. I leaned over toward her.

“Are you… okay right now? I mean, with your sister and all?”

She looked at me, still smiling.

“I’m quite distressed about my sister’s death – especially now that I know Gamzee was behind it. My killing of him feels hollow, but also he deserved to die and I feel okay about that. I can either sit here and cry or try to enjoy what I can in this moment.”

That was one way to look at it. But there was one other thing and I wasn’t sure how she was going to take it.

“I can’t let you come with us to go after Meenah.”

“Oh, I know.” She was still smiling. “They don’t know me, but as soon as they saw that I basically look the same as Damara they would put things together quickly. Or they would think I  _ am _ Damara and act accordingly. They’re not stupid, and thinking they are would be a grave mistake.”

She leaned over and took hold of Sollux’s arm. “I’m going to stay here and pray for you to do well. I know that you’ll all try your hardest.” She closed her eyes, still smiling, and squeezed Sollux’s arm softly.

So that was it. We had all our keys – we just needed to make one more stop to prepare and rest up – then we’d be ready to give those keys a turn!

* * *

**South Harlem, New York City**

We arrived back at Fairytale as the night was getting into the swing of things. Folks were coming and going in and out of the door and every time it opened we could hear the music coming from inside. I was just thinking that I’d never actually seen the place while it was fully open and bustling like this – it was intoxicating.

In through the doors it was even more crowded than I’d first thought. No one paid us any mind as we navigated back through the swell of people, looking for Rose, Roxy, or Kanaya. On our way back, we almost bumped into Jade. She was wearing a far shorter dress than she’d been in before and was holding a tray of drinks. She looked… actually, she looked happy for the first time since I’d met her.

“Hey!” She shouted over the noise of the band playing up front. “There’s a gentleman here to see you – he’s over at the bar.”

I couldn’t see, but I saw Terezi wrinkle her nose.

“Shit. It’s the highblood from the Diamond!” She pointed toward the bar. I could see Vriska visibly bristle as soon as she heard.

Still, there was no getting around it. I walked through the crowd, toward the bar. Sitting perched on a stool, sipping a martini, was the troll in the purple suit. He had a long face and distinguished features, with short black hair that framed his face perfectly. As we walked up, he raised his glass.

“Ah! Ms. Crocker, Detective Pyrope, and Ms. Serket! Please to make all of your acquaintances – I’m reliably informed that I  _ just _ missed you earlier at the Diamond Cabaret. No matter – this place is much livelier and better for conversations of a discrete nature.”

He motioned for us to sit. I figured we didn’t have much of a choice at this point, so I pulled up a stool and sat with Vriska, Terezi, and this dapper stranger.

“My name is Eridan Ampora,” he began. “I am here both to represent and protect the interests of a certain group of Alternians from up North. Specifically, Boston.”

He wasn’t just a troll from Boston – he was here on behalf of the darn Boston Council!

“I’ve been keeping a close eye on you for the last couple days – as much as was practical. You certainly had quite the scrape at the Harley manor, didn’t you? Good thing that someone came along and pulled your pretty friend out of the fire, isn’t it?” He smiled slowly.

“That was you?” Terezi asked. Eridan nodded and raised his glass.

“No need for thanks. I was simply doing my duty to a group of fine, upstanding citizens committed to setting right the wrongs of this evil city.” He sneered for the briefest moment and then his good-natured look returned. “Besides, given that one among you wishes to relocate to my fair city with her… female companion… I thought it only fitting to exemplify the hospitality that we are known for.”

He paused to take a sip of the martini and closed his eyes for a second, savoring the taste.

“Did you know that Boston doesn’t have Alternian districts like New York? No? It’s true! In our city, Alternians and humans live, work, and frolic side-by-side. Of course there are the relevant cultural centers and what-not – most humans find the whole Empress-worship thing a bit tiresome and I’ve yet to meet an Alternian who genuinely enjoys baseball – but overall the attitude is one of tolerance and acceptance. I believe that you would, Ms. Serket, find that the general attitude towards you and Ms. Egbert would be quite welcoming.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Vriska interrupted. “I can’t leave until we’re done.”

“Ah yes,” Eridan raised his eyebrows. “I’m familiar with your predicament to some degree. And while I’m sure you have concocted a perfectly adequate plan, I would be remiss were I not to offer at least  _ some _ degree of assistance.”

“Why?” I asked. “Why help us? Why care about any of this?”

“My dear woman,” Eridan laughed. “Do you think that because we operate outside the bounds of the law at times that we therefore know nothing of morality or ethics? The Alternian views towards childhood and children in general may have been somewhat harsh in the past, but we have lived among you humans, free of the confines of the Empire, for over thirty years. Our views have softened. The Boston Council in particular does not take kindly to those who would mistreat the vulnerable in such a fashion!”

He took another sip.

“In truth we don’t know whether it was Mr. Makara or Mr. Gorjek who first began the solicitation and exploitation of underage and otherwise vulnerable women – it doesn’t matter, as they were both party to the whole sordid affair. They were, of course, aided substantially by Mr. Jacob Harley. And when the news reached Ms. Peixes… rather than immediately shut it down and enact swift and terrible punishment on her subordinates and those that abetted them…”

He stopped and frowned heavily.

“Instead, she chose to not only ignore but actually  _ support _ what he was doing. I don’t know why… money, probably. Or power. Or she’s an evil bitch. I don’t know, and I don’t especially care. The consequences are the same.”

He finished the drink in one gulp and stared at me.

“I assume you  _ do _ have a plan of some kind?”

I nodded, then explained it to him. When I was done, he laughed.

“It’s bold, I’ll give you that! Might even work – who knows? I’ll support you from afar as best I can, but I can’t get within sight of that building or every ruffian and goon inside will be on me. Meenah isn’t ignorant – she knows that Boston has figured out what she’s been up to and she knows that just tossing us Gamzee wouldn’t be enough – even if he were still alive. I’m a known face, so I can’t go inside. But… yes… your plan definitely has potential.”

Eridan stood up, stretched his legs, and smiled at us.

“I will be out there at nine in the morning tomorrow. It is my understanding that Meenah Peixes conducts business generally beginning around nine-thirty. I would suggest you are not… unduly late.”

With that, he turned and disappeared into the crowd on his way out of the club. When he was gone, I looked over to see that Kanaya had apparently materialized out of thin air in the last couple seconds.

“I see you have spoken with our distinguished out-of-town guest. What are your thoughts?”

I shrugged. “I don’t see that we have much of a choice.”

A thought occurred – “I’m real sorry to impose like this, but do you happen to know of a place we can lay low for the night? My place got tossed and I feel like Jade’s and Terezi’s might both be on the short list of places the Council is watching.”

Kanaya smiled at me. “As a matter of fact, we would be happy to let you stay in the back here. We have some rooms we have used as dressing rooms or for guests in the past. You would be welcome to stay, assuming you are willing to help out around the establishment for a while.”

Sure. What else was I going to do? Sit around and worry about dying for several hours?

Right before we broke off to go help out the three swell gals that owned the place, Terezi pulled me aside.

“Jane… I can’t go with you on this one.”

“Nonsense – I don’t mind having you along for the last ride!”

“No, you don’t understand. When this goes down it’s going to be an absolute clam-bake, no matter what. If I come with you… I can shoot and I can help. But if I stay behind, I can do something even better – I can cover for you with the coppers. No one knows I’m working this at all except maybe Latula, and I can persuade her not to mention it. If I make sure I’m there when this all hits, I can probably protect you.”

The way she said it sounded extremely personal – not the generic, general “you” but the very specific, very intimate form of “you.”

I thought about it the entire time I was busing tables and serving drinks at the bar. I thought about it once all the patrons had gone home and the bar closed for the night. I thought about it as I sat down on the couch in one of the dressing rooms and tried to clear my mind.

I thought about it as Terezi Pyrope walked into the same dressing room and closed the door behind her.

“Can I talk to you?”

You, specific. You, personal.


	12. A Reflection After Midnight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: This chapter contains non-explicit sexual activity between consenting adults described in moderate detail.

“Can I talk to you?” The words rang in my ear, even though they were said very quietly. Terezi had slipped into the dressing room and closed the door behind her. I heard the soft  _ click _ of the lock being set. She sounded… tentative? Embarrassed? Almost afraid, even. It felt like it would be a bit much to tell her not to be scared of me – maybe a little bit flippant under the circumstances. We’d cheated death, what, three or four times together now?

“Sure, what’s on your mind?” I had taken off my revolver and suit jacket – hung them up on a nearby coat rack. I was in the process of rolling my sleeves up, getting ready to settle in for the night and catch whatever sleep I could before our big finale tomorrow. I had a lot on my mind – but I supposed that Terezi did too, and I wasn’t of the disposition to tell her she couldn’t spill her guts a little.

She fidgeted, looked down, her face was flushed. “I wanted… to talk about what happened before. At my place.”

That came rushing back all at once – kissing her maybe a little bit more than I should’ve. More than would generally be considered “ladylike” and that made me almost want to laugh. I held it out of respect for Terezi’s feelings and because I wasn’t laughing at her – just the whole idea of the concept of decorum in a world where I could be snuffed out at a moment’s notice but the idea of me kissing a gal – loving a gal – was maybe a bit too much for some folks’ tastes.

“Okay… sure… let’s talk about that…” Smooth as ever, Jane Crocker. Casanova has nothing on you!

Terezi walked over and sat down next to me on the couch. “How do you feel about me, specifically? For real.” I was getting a major sense of Deja Vu right then. I took a deep breath, committed to not completely stumbling over my own words this time. We’d been through a fair bit since the last time she asked me. Felt like forever – even inside the space of, what, two days?

I sighed, heavily, and held my breath.

What was I going to say to her? That I was pretty sure I was falling in love with her? That sounded a bit rich, especially given how little we knew about each other. But we’d also been through some pretty intense stuff and I felt like I already knew her in a way that mattered a lot.

And did it even matter? I thought she was pretty and we had fun together when we weren’t being shot at. Wasn’t that enough?

Overthinking. That was my problem. Always overthinking everything. I was about to say something I wasn’t going to be able to reel back in if it didn’t land.

“I think you’re beautiful and I’d like to keep seeing you when all this is over.”

Good. Good start. She didn’t seem to be recoiling in terror. She was blushing an awful lot, but I could handle that. Good job, Jane. Good progress. Time for the part I was never going to live down – why was I even still talking?

“I think I’m falling in love with you.” Oh wow, that was coming on pretty strong. Probably more than needed. She was definitely not going to respond to that – probably already getting up to run out of the room and not look back.

Except… she wasn’t. She blushed even deeper and buried her head against my neck. I could feel her horns brushing against the bare skin and I remember thinking that they weren’t rough at all - they had a kind of fuzz on then, like a baby goat. It would’ve been a pretty amusing thought, except my brain wasn’t getting a whole lot of time to process it.

“I think you’re beautiful too,” Terezi said.

“I’d like to keep seeing you too,” Terezi said.

“I… think I’m falling in love with you too,” Terezi said.

My face was on fire. It wasn’t ten degrees hotter in here – it was at least twenty. The dames that run this place must’ve lit a fire under it because it wasn’t cooling off and my face felt like it was bright red. Not that Terezi could see – she was still nestled against my neck. Kind of… cooing? I wasn’t sure if that was the word, but it was making my heart ache to hear it.

“You don’t get it,” I said. “There’s stuff you don’t know about me!”

“Like what? You take photos of fellas cheating on their ladies? You follow crooked businessmen around to catch them with their fingers in the wrong pies… either business-pies or people-pies?” She cackled at that last one. “Jane, I know what private eyes do for a living.”

“No, not that… there’s stuff from my past! Things about  _ me _ that you don’t know!”

She laughed. “Next you’ll be telling me you like  _ gals _ a whole lot!” I felt her squeeze me and – I’ll be honest it felt pretty darn good. I wanted so badly to be happy – I just didn’t feel like I really deserved it.

“I’m a Crocker.”

Terezi laughed again. “Okay? And? I know your name.”

“No… I mean I’m a  _ Crocker _ .”

Dry goods and supplies. Railroads. Steamboats. An empire stretching from Maine to California. Crocker. The truth was tumbling out now.

“Oh… holy shit! Like  _ Crocker _ Crocker?! Oh shit… why didn’t you say anything? I mean, it’s not my business… why are you working as a PI out of a shitty office? Why are you doing any of this?”

“They disowned me.” Tumble.

Terezi sat back a bit – even with her sightless eyes I could feel her looking at me –  _ seeing _ me for the first time.

“Why did they do that?”

“I brought a gal home. They told me to cut that nonsense out or they were gonna write me out of the family. I didn’t cut that nonsense out. They wrote me out of the family.” Tumble. Everything was spilling out now.

“Shit… but… why is that a big deal? I mean, it sounds awful to not have your family’s support, but you seem to be doing… fine on your own.” The gal definitely had tact when she wanted to, I’d give her that.

“It’s not that… it’s… everything we’ve been going through in the last few days. All the stuff with the Harleys. I’m sure that my family does the same kind of thing. I know they owned slaves back when that was a thing, and I’m sure they’re not doing much better by their workers now. And I’m sure that somewhere in that whole mess there’s plenty of young girls who were told that the Crocker family had a great job for them as long as they were willing to move away from any kind of friends or family. It eats me up because I wasn’t strong enough to put my foot down on it, and now I’m just kind of a mostly-functional half-alcoholic who drinks to forget what a piece of shit she is sometimes and spends her time tracking down scum-suckers for petty cash.”

I groaned, loudly.

“I guess what I’m saying is I hate myself and I don’t understand why you don’t too.” Yeah, there it was. I was ready for her to recoil now – to talk about how I was a piece of garbage. I closed my eyes, ready for whatever she had to say about me.

I felt her lips brush mine with a soft exhale of breath. She waited – I waited. It felt like forever, even though it was probably only about two seconds. I leaned forward and Terezi met the kiss, leaning in and catching my bottom lip between hers. I think I moaned out loud – I don’t even know why I thought about it in that moment, but I remember thinking  _ I hope she didn’t hear that _ as if I wasn’t desperately pressing my body up against hers and snaking my hands in between her hair.

When I reached those soft, velvet-covered horns Terezi gasped. I heard her whispering into my ear.

“Your family is who you choose to be close to, not who your blood is close to. Humans worry too much about that.”

She had a point. I’d mostly chosen to be alone – sometimes surrounded by my good friends Jack Daniels and unnamed-bourbon-I-could-buy-for-a-quarter-a-bottle. But… I was making the choice to be with her. Right there. Right then.

I didn’t recall undoing the buttons on her shirt, but here we were. My hand was up her back, running over the smooth gray skin up to the nape of her neck. Terezi shivered. She bent forward a little and she was undoing  _ my _ shirt’s buttons now – her hands as fast as I’d ever seen them, not making a single mistake as she went from top-to-bottom.

With my shirt off, it seemed like the room got even  _ warmer _ , if such a thing were possible. I kept my eyes closed, feeling Terezi’s warm hands dancing along my stomach and up to my brassiere.

And that was coming off. That was a thing that was happening – I felt naked. Mainly because I was literally half-naked at this point.

“Is this… a good idea?” Yeah, it was about the silliest thing I could’ve said at this point. I never claimed to be very good at this kind of thing! Terezi snorted, laughing into my neck and kissing me, biting ever-so-softly.

“Probably.”

She kissed my neck again and I felt her hands cupping my breast and, I’ll be honest, it felt a lot better to focus on that than the self-doubt that had been crawling up inside me for so long.

I hope you don’t think this is going to turn into one of  _ those _ kind of stories, right? I said before – I’m not that kind of gal. You get the general idea – use your imagination and fill in the rest if you really have to.

* * *

We had eventually ended up completely naked. Now, I’m not entirely sure how or when or why it happened, but it definitely happened. It was also, perhaps, the prelude to other events that night that I don’t feel entirely comfortable discussing with folks I don’t know that well. So by the end of things, we were lying on the couch naked, kind of draped with a sheet that Kanaya had left in the dressing room before. I had Terezi in my arms and her head was down on my chest and – again, I’m trying to be perfectly honest here…

I felt a lot better than I had in a long time. I still had a lot of uncertainty and doubt and fear swirling around inside me, but I was also living in a kind of pleasant haze. Terezi was breathing softly, still awake, and I kept rubbing her back and shoulder while she… purred? I was still getting used to the little noises she made.

“Jane?” Terezi shifted against me.

“Yeah?”

“Whatever happens… I wanted you to know how I felt about you, yeah? I don’t want you to feel like I’m using you just to get my kicks and then ditch you somewhere.”

Even if I thought that was a possibility, I wasn’t sure that I especially cared in that moment. I think it would’ve been worth the break from the unrelenting hell of the last few days. Still, I shook my head and  _ m-mmm _ ’ed her comment, continuing to stroke her back softly.

“Do you wanna keep seeing each other after?”

It felt like I’d been waiting for a surprisingly long time to hear her ask me that. Again, not sure it made sense – we’d only known each other about a week. Still… it felt pretty good and I was well past the point of caring about decorum.

“Heck,” I said. “I’d love that.”

“Good.” She buried her head against my chest and wrapped her arms around me. “Jane? Can I ask you something serious? I don’t wanna be a downer.”

“Sure.”

“Why did you join the Force?”

I thought for a minute… it was a complicated question. No, that’s not true – my reasoning was probably a little  _ too _ simple.

“I wanted to stop people like them… like my family. I think I always had the sense that they were bad in so many ways, but I didn’t want to let myself think about it. Once they kicked me out, I just wanted to be there to protect people. To help people.”

She was quiet for a moment, then spoke again in a softer voice. “Why did you leave?”

“Because I wasn’t stopping people like my family. I was helping them stay in power and tamp down the people under them.” I sighed. “But then I just ended up shadowing cheaters and petty crooks and basically nothing else. I carry that damn gun around everywhere and I’ve never even fired the stupid thing except at the range.”

Terezi giggled. “You act like such a damn hatchetman but you’re really not, are you?” I flushed deep red and I felt her kissing me on the neck.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “I don’t mind… you’re smart and you’re kind, deep down inside. I think it’s sweet.”

“What about you?” I asked. “You’re pretty tough – how do you do it?”

“I don’t.” She halted for the briefest second. “I’ve never killed anyone. Never even really hurt anyone. I reacted to Jake because you were about to get killed – I just acted without even thinking about it. I can usually tell what people are feeling from how they smell and sound – I’m good at reading that. The first time we met, when you were down behind the counter… I knew that you didn’t really want to fight me, and I knew that you weren’t the one that had killed Gamzee. I could smell that your gun hadn’t even been fired since it was last cleaned.”

She put her head up against my chest, listening to my heartbeat with one ear. “So I bluffed and played my gut. It’s what I’m good at.”

Silence descended for a bit – heavy like a thick woolen blanket.

“Hey, Jane?” She sounded sleepy.

“Yeah?”

“You ever wonder if we could… do what we do, but for good. Like… actually help bring bad people to justice and help people. Maybe… maybe help people like Damara before things end up so bad they can’t ever come back.”

I had never admitted it to another living soul, but this was something I frequently thought about. Especially in those dark, quiet hours when I had been drinking too much, or when I couldn’t sleep. When I downed the last of the bottle and then thought  _ is this all there is? _

“Yeah, Terezi… I have…” She was still laying on my chest and I could feel my heart beating a little bit quicker as that fact really began to sink in.

“Please… be careful…”

I started to respond, but she was already asleep.


	13. Devil's Dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: This chapter has some depictions of bloody violence and an instance of misgendering/deadnaming a trans woman (portrayed in a resoundingly negative light, but it still happens). Descriptions are not overly graphic, but it may be disturbing to readers with these triggers.

**The Financial District, New York City**

The Tower had no other name – it was simply known by its street address within the Financial District. Beyond that, it needed no name. It was an imposing fortress of a building, the largest one to be purpose-built by the trolls. It followed their typically heavy architectural style, not so much stabbing into the sky as bashing on it with a massive hammer that beat upon the heavens themselves.

But there were no angels up in the Tower – only devils.

Vriska and I were dressed up in our Friday-morning best – I had on my usual suit jacket and trousers over a white shirt. Vriska was wearing a blue suit and skirt with a corset underneath with wide, rigid supports. She looked up at the Tower slowly.

“Crocker, it’s going to be rough in there. Everyone on the inside who’s holding iron is gonna be loyal to the New York Council. They’re not gonna let us through with any kind of weapon.”

I had figured as much – I hadn’t even bothered to bring my revolver.

“Let me do the talking. I’m the stone-cold killer here – you’re the easily-bought flatfoot that I used to do my legwork.” She sounded confident enough that I almost believed it – if I didn’t know better.

That wasn’t going to be a problem. I’d learned enough about Alternian culture in the past few days to maybe fill a five-minute lull in conversations, but understanding the nuances well enough to not get both our heads blown off was well above my qualifications.

Through the glass doors at the front of the building – Vriska holding the briefcase and me with my hands in my jacket pockets. Once we crossed that threshold, there was no going back. Realistically, there had been no going back for a while now.

Past the door was a large lobby all clad in white stone with a large counter running through the middle. A couple of largish trolls stood behind the counter wearing dark suits and fedoras that were tucked neatly in between their horns. One of the trolls was holding a Tommy gun in his hands. They were both frowning.

Cool as ice in the dead of winter, Vriska walked up to the troll closest to us.

“We’re here to see Meenah Peixes. Tell her it’s about Damara Megido and Gamzee Makara. She’ll know what it means.”

The troll glared at her, but he picked up a telephone off the counter and dialed a number. After a short conversation, he hung up the phone and nodded.

“The briefcase comes with us.”

Shit.

Vriska smiled. “Oh, but there’s some important documents in there that  _ only _ Ms. Peixes gets to see.”

The goon shrugged. “So? Take ‘em out.”

Shit. I had been prepared to be searched, but not for this. But Vriska didn’t seem surprised, or even worried. She opened the briefcase, reached inside, and took out the folder with the photos inside. She closed the briefcase again, her hand almost imperceptibly flitting to a small catch inside as she did it. She looked right at me and nodded.

We were on the clock.

The big fella who wanted the briefcase set it down and checked us for weapons. Of course, we didn’t have anything. Holding in a place like this would’ve been a ludicrous idea. Once the troll was satisfied that we weren’t packing heat or carrying a blade, he grabbed the briefcase and motioned for us to follow him. Back through the stone lobby – there was a bank of elevators at the end. Big Troll pushed the button on the far one and we stood and waited.

“Word of advice,” he said. “Be careful what you say to Ms. Peixes. She’s had a pretty rough last couple days and she’s been in a pretty low mood.”

Yeah, I could imagine. I didn’t say it out loud.

The elevator slid open and we all stepped inside while the troll punched the button for the top floor. Up we went, just three folks in a small metal box packed with a pound of explosives powerful enough to blow out the side of the elevator shaft. I wasn’t nervous at all. Wasn’t even sweating bullets that had nothing to do with the stuffy heat of the elevator.

After what felt like an hour, the elevator reached the top floor and the doors slid open. A cool breeze wafted in from the floor and I realized that this place actually had air conditioning! I supposed it made sense, given the wealth of the owner and the fact that she was reported to rarely leave the building.

Our guard motioned for us to walk forward. We approached another guard, a troll gal in a suit with long features that reminded me of Vriska, seated behind a desk, a Browing Automatic Rifle propped up next to her. This was some seriously heavy iron for a personal guard! Big Troll handed Gal Troll the briefcase.

“These ladies are here to see Ms. Peixes. Already been checked. Hold this briefcase for them.”

“I’ll take it to the guard room – they can pick it up after.”

Big Troll seemed satisfied by this and walked back to the elevator, punching the lower floor in and disappearing back down below. Gal Troll looked us over.

“Ms. Peixes is through the doors up ahead. She’s expecting you. I’ll keep your briefcase safely in the guard room until you’re done.” She pointed us to the doors and stood up to walk the briefcase to the guard room, taking her BAR with her.

Slowly, Vriska and I walked towards the ornate brass-covered double doors leading into Meenah Peixes’ lair – weird choice of words, I know, but I felt like it fit.

Vriska glanced over at me. “Jane? You want to know a secret about me?”

I nodded.

“I really wanted to be an actor. Ever since I was a wriggler. By the time troll actors became a bigger thing I was already wrapped up in so much else but… I always wanted to act. I think I might do that when I get to Boston, you know?”

She smiled. She smiled – and she changed. Her face grew cold, emotionless. The smile disappeared into a hollowed void behind her eyes. I couldn’t help but wonder how much of this was  _ acting _ and how much was how she really felt.

Clutching the folder tightly, Vriska pushed open the double doors and we walked inside.

The office was richly appointed – all the furniture looked like it was made of solid mahogany and cost a small fortune. Artwork – some of which I even recognized – lined the walls. Underfoot were various colorful carpets. The wall was a giant glass window that overlooked the city, and in front of it was a massive desk.

In the middle of the room was a set of comfortable lounge chairs surrounding a small table. In one of these chairs sat a tall troll woman in a sharply-cut suit. From her braided hair and glasses – not to mention the fact she was the only other person in the room – I figured this had to be Meenah Peixes.

“Vriska Serket and Jane Crocker! Please – come in and have a seat.” Her tone was overtly friendly, but there was something dangerous underneath. We took the seats across from her.

“I would offer you a drink, but I think my allowing you to walk in here without being shot is hospitality enough. I was told you had business with me regarding a certain Gamzee Makara and Damara Megido.”

“I know that the Boston Council wanted Gamzee dead,” Vriska interrupted, her voice cold. “I know that they were starting to figure out what you were all doing.”

Meenah laughed. “The  _ Boston Council _ ? They couldn’t find their own asses if you handed them a map!”

Vriska didn’t break her cool, not for a second. “But you’re worried. Because Damara Megido is taking out your associates, and you’re at least a little bit worried she’ll come after you next.”

“Do you see this place?” Meenah gestured around the room. “This is a fortress. I have dozens of armed guards and no one comes in here with a weapon that I don’t explicitly trust. I’m not worried.”

“I think you’re lying,” Vriska said, her voice even. “At least a little bit. Otherwise you wouldn’t have been telling Gamzee to clean up after himself.”

Meenah’s eyes widened. “How did you…”

“Damara got to Gamzee first. My associate here found him in his apartment with a bit of extra ventilation in the skull. Your telegram was there, but obviously he didn’t act fast enough.”

“Shit. Yeah, he’s always been unreliable like that. All the damn sopor he was always eating.”

Vriska smiled, all teeth and ice. “Damara was causing you a lot of problems.” She took the folder and opened it, handing the photos to Meenah. “I don’t think she’ll be causing you any more.”

“What is this? She’s… she killed herself?”

“No, not exactly… although I’m sure it’ll look that way to a casual observer.”

Meenah smiled now, matching the intensity of Vriska’s – the main difference was I knew she was genuinely feeling this. “Oh… very good. You did this?”

Vriska nodded. “Ms. Crocker tracked her to her apartment in the Bowery and was was able to talk my way inside. Choked her out and staged a suicide – slit wrists, very sad – victim who just couldn’t bear the weight of life anymore and all that. Death by self-hatred.”

“Oh, I like that!” Meenah set the photos down on the table and clapped her hands together. “I will fully admit that I misjudged you, Vriska – if I may call you Vriska?”

“Sure. You wouldn’t be the first to make that mistake.”

“Oh, but I won’t make it again. And what is it you want, exactly?”

“I want to leave. To go up to Boston and for you to leave myself and my associate alone.”

Meenah’s smile broadened. “Of course…” Her eyes narrowed, and I suddenly was feeling much less okay about this. “Of course I can’t let you do that, Vriska.”

I saw Vriska’s eye twitch just a bit but she managed to hold her stage face. “And why not?”

“I know the Boston Council wants me dead. They’ll scoop you up as soon as you get there and convince you to tell them everything you know about me – one way or another. I simply can’t risk it.”

“Why would I stay here?”

Meenah narrowed her eyes. “Well, practically speaking because I don’t know that the Boston Council will just let you walk around unharmed, especially if they hear you’ve been helping me in such a… dramatic fashion. Also, I’m not letting you leave.”

Vriska moved to interrupt but Meenah put up a finger.

“And before you ask me some nonsense about what’s stopping you… how are things going with you and that girl you’re seeing?”

Vriska’s face almost collapsed again. Her eye twitched once more. That bad feeling was crawling right up into my guts and threatening to choke me.

Meenah got up out of her chair and stepped towards Vriska, kneeling down in front of her. The grin was all over her face – completely devoid of anything resembling joy. It was the grin of a wolf who’d just trapped a rabbit.

“Yes… I know about your  _ gal _ . How is working in the city planner’s office going for  _ John _ … is  _ he _ taking a liking to it?” Her smile broadened.

Her smile stopped.

Her smile died. 

Her face fell and she made a muffled  _ oompf _ . I looked down and saw Vriska’s hand at Meenah’s stomach – the blade was buried to the end and bright fuschia blood dripped down.

Vriska’s mask came off and she growled at Meenah. “Her name is pronounced  _ June _ and you’re a piece of shit.”

In a motion that was almost too fast to track, Vriska pulled the knife out of Meenah’s stomach and slashed once, catching her in the side of the throat. Fuschia spurted out as Meenah toppled to the floor, her blood soaking quickly into the beautiful rug below. She reached out to clutch her throat but Vriska stepped down hard on her hand, pinning it.

“You will never hurt her or anyone else… not ever again.”

Vriska watched. I watched. Meenah quickly lost consciousness, and I knew she was on her way out already. It was gruesome, but at the same time I didn’t feel bad.

I wondered how long we had on the clock.

Vriska sat back down, wiping the knife on the carpet. I saw a spot in her corset that looked like it was missing a supporting busk. It took my mind a second to make the connection and realize how she’d been able to smuggle a knife in.

Her face was back to normal – she looked exhausted and terrified and shocked all at once.

“I’m not a killer, Jane…” She let the knife drop to the floor. “I just… I didn’t have a choice.”

To be quite honest, I didn’t think she really did.

I was starting to wonder how long it would be before Gal Troll came in to check up on us with her BAR. That lasted maybe two minutes…

The sound of the explosion shook the upper floor and I could feel the traces of the pressure wave even inside the office. Sollux had somewhat under-sold the capabilities of his explosive device! I turned to Vriska and grabbed her shoulder.

“We need to leave now! They’ll be out in force soon!”

Vriska and I went to the door and opened it slowly. Smoke was pouring out into the lobby and Gal Troll was lying in front of the desk in a daze. The explosion had done major damage to the upper floor and the shockwave had punched out into the lobby and shattered windows.

I ran up to Gal Troll and grabbed the BAR from the floor. I raised the heavy rifle up and brought the butt down heavily on Gal Troll’s head, hearing a wet kind of  _ thump _ as she collapsed to the floor.

The elevator chimed – I was surprised it was even still working – and the door opened.

And out stepped the hulking, mustached figure of Jake English, left shoulder wrapped in a bandage and holding his Tommy gun in his right hand.

I didn’t stop to think – I raised the BAR and pulled the trigger, spitting lead wildly toward the elevator as Jake ducked back. Vriska and I ran, blindly following the hallway to the side of the elevator and hoping desperately that the stairs were there. I could hear Jake’s heavy footfalls behind us – a cracking burst from the Tommy gun lit up the hallway and splinters of stonework and plaster sprayed around us. I turned, firing the BAR again and hitting nothing.

I saw the door to the staircase and I hit it at a run with Vriska following right behind me. Another round of bullets smashed into the door behind us. We took the stairs down at full speed, nearly tripping on the way.

We were one flight down when I heard the door bang open again and Jake was on the stairs. He jumped the first full flight and I let out two shots with the BAR, forcing him to back off just long enough so we could keep our lead. I wondered how much ammo the BAR had left in it.

Two more flights and Jake was catching up. I didn’t have time to stop and shoot at him anymore. Another flight and I grabbed Vriska’s arm and we burst out the door into another hallway.

I had no idea where we were going – just needed to find another staircase. We took random turns, passed confused-looking trolls wearing business attire, ran until our lungs were burning. We ducked into an office to catch our breath.

Bullets ripped through the thin walls, scattering into the building. We ran again, breaking from the office and drawing more heat from Jake as he brought his Tommy gun to bear on us. We cut across another office and doubled back. On the way, I fired the BAR again and heard it audibly  _ click _ as the gun ran out of ammo or jammed – it didn’t matter which. I tossed the heavy rifle down and we ran even faster, back toward the staircase.

We managed to get back to the stairs we’d come from without running into Jake again. Panting, we continued to run down the stairs, taking each turn of the stairwell as fast as we possibly could. I didn’t hear Jake behind us – I didn’t  _ think _ I heard Jake behind us, but I couldn’t be sure. I wished that Terezi was with us – she would know for sure.

The last few flights of stairs went by in a blur and finally we were at the last one – the door that led out into the lobby. We pushed through and immediately were surrounded by absolute chaos. The noise of the explosion and the gunfire had carried and trolls were running everywhere, looking for cover or gathering up weapons and running toward various rally points. There was no one sitting at the main desk, and the way to the street looked clear. All we had to do was make it the next forty yards and disappear into the city.

All we had to do was make it past the bank of elevators that was opening to reveal an extremely angry-looking Jake English. We sprinted, heading behind the pillars, and slid behind the central desk as bullets chipped away at the stone. The shooting stopped briefly and I heard the harsh clatter of a drum hitting the stone floor and the ominous mechanical  _ click _ as a new one was set in place.

“There’s nowhere else to go. If you come out now I’ll make it quick and won’t go track down June and kill her too.” His voice was different than I had imagined it would be – almost pleasant. But I believed every word he said.

He let a couple rounds loose from the Tommy gun – they hit the stone and ricocheted off harmlessly. He was starting to walk again. He was coming closer.

Vriska’s eyes were wide, but she wasn’t looking at me – she was staring toward the door. Toward a figure in purple standing in the middle of a crowd of people running out of the building.

The figure raised a carbine to his shoulder.

Aimed.

There was a flash of light and the glass of the front door shattered. An imperceptible fraction of a second later a blast of noise and the sound of someone punching a hole in a ripe melon from behind the counter.

Then, a half-second later, a heavy  _ thud _ .

The figure in purple was already vanishing into the crowd.

We peeked over the counter and saw Jake’s body lying a few feet away from us. The Tommy gun sat uselessly at his side. Given the rather large exit wound in the back of his head, I doubted very much that he would be recovering from this one.

That was when the coppers finally decided to show up. A whole troop of troll officers came thundering in the door holding scatterguns and rifles, screaming at us to put our hands up. We were happy to oblige. They stormed back through the lobby – the trolls that were armed quickly saw that this wasn’t going to go their way and dropped their weapons.

Vriska and I were cuffed and hauled out the front door in five minutes. We were marched over to the other side of the street and roughly sat down on the corner while the cops set up a rough perimeter and kept flooding into the building. The rough troll fella that was guarding us decided he wasn’t feeling very talkative, so my attempts to ask him exactly what was happening might as well have been directed at a giant brick wall.

I heard a familiar voice from behind us. “Officer, Detective Pyrope, 3rd Alternian – I’ll be taking these two in for special questioning.”

She sounded like she wasn’t going to take shit from anyone, least of all some random copper in a beat uniform. He muttered something and disappeared quickly into the crowd of milling officers nearby. Terezi helped us up off the curb and let us out of the cuffs.

“You’re in charge here?” I asked. Terezi laughed.

“No one’s in charge right now. They’re just sick of the New York Council making us all look bad. Couple other joints are being raided right now – this shakedown is gonna get messy but it was a long time coming. Anyway, I saw you two getting hauled out…” She smiled, broadly.

“So I bluffed and played my gut. It’s what I’m good at.” She winked.

I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her right on the mouth.


	14. Letters After the Storm Subsides

Dear Jane,   
  
I’m happy that you helped us. I feel like Damara can be at peace now after what you and Terezi and Vriska did at the end. I’m very grateful and Sollux is too. You are all good people and you deserve to be happy. Even though I’m still very sad that Damara is dead, I’m happy that I got to know the three of you and that you helped me out.   
  
If you ever need help, please come to Sole-Luxe. We live right over the store and are always happy to have you over for tea if you would like.   
  
I heard Vriska moved away and I’m sad about that, but still happy for her and June.   
  
Please take care of Terezi! She is nice and sweet inside and I hope you both make each other very happy.   
  
I’ve sent a package to you with something I want you to have. I don’t want to keep it – all it does is bring back bad memories. Please do whatever you want with it.   
  
Sincerely,   
  
Aradia Megido

* * *

Janey,   
  
Can you believe I’m living it up in BOSTON now?! After June and I moved, I was worried it’d be really hard to settle in here, but the Council has been a huge help. I don’t know how to describe it, but they’re not like the New York Council at all. They mostly focus on trying to organize stuff to help poor people and do things that the law can’t or won’t let them do to keep people happy. Like I said, it’s hard to describe… but it’s great.   
  
I’ve been working with them for a bit now, but they said I’m pretty much free to do whatever. I’ve been studying acting here and I should be opening in my first play soon. They don’t have much of a problem with troll actors up here, so I get to go on stage when the Somerville Theater opens their next play! I’ll send you and Terezi tickets and you can come up here and visit!   
  
June found a job with the City of Boston in their planning department. I guess that puts her at odds with me and the Council sometimes but… the city here has a weird relationship with the Council. I think most of the time they just kind of let them do what they want, as long as no one is getting hurt.   
  
We’re going up the North Shore over the weekend! We’re gonna go look for crabs – I like them because they’re kind of like spiders except they live in the ocean!   
  
Seriously, I owe you and Terezi so much. It means a lot to me that you did all this for me… I wasn’t ready for that, but I appreciate it. You’re the best, Jane – if there’s anything I can ever do for you, let me know.   
  
Love,   
  
Vriska

* * *

Detective Jane,   
  
I’m writing to let you know that I am in process of dissolving most of my grandfather’s holdings. With him and Jake both dead, that left me as the sole heir to his fortune. While the thought of living in luxury is appealing, the thought of doing so on the back of the suffering of countless innocents is not.   
  
So I’m selling off most of what he had and using the money to fund various charitable causes throughout the city. I will retain enough to live modestly off of and will help to oversee the administration of these various charities.   
  
In particular, I am pleased to let you know that Aradia and I have come up with the idea of opening the Damara Megido School for Young Women. It will be open to both human and Alternian women and will provide continuing education in the arts, sciences, mathematics, and various career fields to help them remain independent throughout their lives.   
  
I’m sorry that we had to meet like we did, but I’m glad that you were there to help me out when I needed it. Thank you again, Jane.   
  
Warm Regards,   
  
Jade Harley

* * *

Jane,   
  
I wanted to let you know that I appreciate very much the way that you handled this whole thing. I know I might come across as a bit skeptical of you, but I genuinely believe that you were approaching this with a good heart. I also appreciate that you made sure that none of thise whole mess blew back on me, Kanaya, Roxy, or anyone else at Fairytale. We worked hard to build up what we have here, and I was really worried that you were just going to come stomping in and destroy that.   
  
I’m glad that I was wrong about you. We might not be very close, but I am glad to know you.   
  
-Rose LaLonde

* * *

Dear Ms. Crocker,   
  
I am writing to inform you that, as far as me and my associates are concerned, your debt with us is completely free and clear. We have similarly communicated this sentiment to Ms. Pyrope and Ms. Serket. Although Ms. Serket is employed part-time in our organization, rest assured that she is doing so of her own free will and through no untoward motivation on our part.   
  
In recognition for your assistance, I would be happy to extend my associates’ favor to you, along with your companion Ms. Pyrope. Should either of you find yourselves in Boston and in need of aid, we will be more than happy to help as a gesture of good will toward friends.   
  
Regards,   
  
Eridan Ampora


	15. The Payoff

**New York City, 1933**

**_P_ ** _ yrope & _ **_C_ ** _ rocker,  _ **_I_ ** _ nvestigators _

The new glass shone on the door and the crisp lettering stood out beautifully. I stood back, hand around Terezi’s waist, and admired it. Not where I expected to be a year ago, but sometimes you just had to kind of take life as it came at you.

The place had been cleaned up, of course, and improved significantly. We had each received a mysterious cashier’s check in the mail shortly after everything went down with the Council. A check for a considerable sum of money. So Terezi quit the Force and I moved in with her. The office became just an office, with the back room converted to a file room and a second desk put in for Terezi.

I’d made a few changes. Stopped drinking so much. Stopped smoking too – the smell really bothered Terezi and I figured her comfort was worth losing one of my formerly favorite vices.

The money had been more than enough to keep us afloat for a while, and after we opened as PCI, we noticed that we started getting a steady stream of clients. Not jilted lovers either – folks with real problems that needed solving. Folks the police didn’t bother with. Folks down on their luck.

And every single month, a cashier’s check showed up in the mail. We tried to back-trace the check once but dead-ended at a company called “Canis Lupus” that was headquartered in Westchester at an address that was actually an abandoned brewery that had been falling apart for several decades. After that, we decided to just let the issue lie and keep doing what we could to help people out.

But that day, we were off. It was a beautiful August afternoon and the weather had cooled off a bit over the last few days. So Terezi and I were going to go take a walk down by the river and enjoy some time together. There was also the matter of the mysterious box that Aradia had sent along – her letter had been painfully vague about the contents.

I picked up that small box and took it to my desk, popping out my pocket knife and carefully sliding the box open.

Inside was a set of jewelry – a diamond necklace and bracelet that I immediately knew, despite not having seen them before had once belonged to Damara Megido.

“Huh,” was all I could muster. I took the jewelry and put it in my pocket before turning to Terezi. “You ready?”

She smiled and we left out the door for our walk.

* * *

**Battery Park, New York City**

In the end, we decided to take a cab downtown to Battery Park and walk out by the harbor. The district had been changing a lot since the New York Council was disbanded after a combination of police raids and lowblood unrest had effectively gutted it. The midbloods that had been grudgingly supporting their masters decided it was in their best interest to switch sides almost immediately, and finally the highbloods had come to their senses and began to divest everything out to the wider Alternian community. Unlike their cousins in Boston, the New York Council had been too inflexible to adapt with the times and change form. Instead, it had simply crumbled under the combined weight of everyone they’re been dedicated to oppressing.

But right there, in that moment, none of that mattered. I was walking down by the water with my gal – the breeze coming in from the harbor was pleasant and the weather was perfect. We walked hand-in-hand along the path, just a couple of gals being good friends. We took the path down to the water and stood there, looking out into the harbor. Ferries passed by on their way to-and-from various destinations along the waterways. Sailboats out in the beautiful weather glided along silently. Everything was peaceful and nothing was wrong.

I reached into my pocket and took out the jewelry.

“It’s nice,” Terezi said. “I mean… I can’t see it but the smell, the way the sound bounces off it… it’s hard to describe, but it’s still nice.”

I agreed. It was nice. It was probably worth a lot of money too.

And it was covered in blood. No matter how clean it actually was – no matter how many times it was washed – it would always be covered in the blood of the woman who wore it. Always be tainted by the fact that it had come from the man who killed her.

I raised the jewelry over my head.

And with all of my strength, I threw it out into the harbor. The diamonds hit the water and immediately sank below the darkly-colored surface.

I leaned over and kissed Terezi – she leaned into it and murmured contentedly.

When we pulled back from each other, I looked down at her.

“I love you, Terezi.” I hadn’t quite expected to say it right then, but it was the truth. Something that had been on my mind for a little while. I saw her blush and look away instinctively.

“I love you too…” Her voice was small, but clear.

I smiled at her and leaned in to kiss her again. We’d walk back to her place from here – enjoy the afternoon. Maybe later we’d go to a picture show and hold hands and make out in the back. For once, the world seemed to be flooded with possibilities.

We turned and slowly started walking back up, away from the water, leaving the sunken jewels behind forever.

Everything was peaceful.

And nothing was wrong.

**Author's Note:**

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> 
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